The Life and Death of Edward Anthony Masen
by javamomma0921
Summary: Edward Masen is 17 in 1918. The first World War is raging and the Spanish Influenza is about to hit. What happens one night in October that changes Edward's destiny forever? FINALIST for Best Canon in the Faithful Shipper Awards!
1. Soldier Boy

**_Hi~Some of you may be familiar with my version of Breaking Dawn told from Edward's POV, The Time is at Hand. While writing that, I became even more fascinated with the character of Edward. I wondered what he would be like before he was a vampire, what his life might have been like and how he lived. I decided to try to write a story, starting in the summer before his "death" to answer some of the questions I had about him. I'm writing his story at the same time as finishing up The Time, so chapters will come out as I have them. This is a new experience for me, and I'll admit that I'm not sure how this will turn out. I'm enjoying being able to come up with my own plot, dialog and even some characters. I hope you like what I have here. Please let me know what you think and any suggestions you might have. I don't promise to use all suggestions, but anything you can add will be helpful! I appreciate any reviews, good or critical. Thanks again! :) ~Jen_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters from the series _Twilight_. I am not Stephanie Meyers. All recognizable character from her story are her sole property; no copyright infringement is intended. All original plot, characters, and dialog are the sole property of this author.**

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**July, 1918**

It was insufferable! Hundreds of boys my age had joined the army, disguised as healthy 18 year olds and were, right now, engaged in the fight to protect our nation against the German forces. And where was I? Here. In Chicago. All but tied to my mother's apron strings. I couldn't stand one minute longer. And yet, here I was. Seventeen years old and poised to wait an entire year before I would be able to serve my country.

My mother and father were dead set against me joining early, although they knew that it was my heart's only desire. They had caught me twice obtaining documents to falsify my age and admit me to the army. On the second time, earlier this week, my mother had marched me to the local enlistment office.

She didn't have me by the ear, but she may as well have for all of the embarrassment that I felt. It was clear to anyone looking at us that she was not bringing me here to proudly enlist her son in the Armed Forces. She was on a mission and she would not be thwarted.

My mother, Elizabeth Masen, was not an imposing woman usually. Actually, she was quite the opposite. Her green eyes were disarming to most people who looked at her and the smile that lit her face betrayed the gentle good humor that usually marked her character. I loved her dearly, but when she got into tempers like this, she was a force to be reckoned with. For now, I pitied the poor sergeant that was about to unknowingly face her wrath. Later, I pitied myself.

"Young man," she began, Irish temper flaring in her once genial green eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a pleasant smile on his face that faded as soon as he looked into her eyes. "Um, what can we do for you and your son today?"

"You can take a good, long look at this boy, sergeant. That's exactly what you can do. And then you can remember his name. This is Edward Anthony Masen." She paused for emphasis between each of my names. I sighed. She was getting into her stride. "Write it down. I'll wait."

"Yes, ma'am. Is your son enlisting with us today?"

"Certainly not!" she said shrilly. "I want you to look at him because he has twice tried to disobey his father and I by _illegally_ obtaining documentation to prove that he is older than he is. Now look at this boy and I want you to remember him. Because if he sets foot in this office before June 20th of next year, he is here under _false pretenses_ and it would be a miscarriage of justice if you admitted him to the army."

She nodded her head, proud of herself for her recitation. I hung my head in shame and chagrin. She had certainly made her point.

"Young man," the sergeant said sternly.

I looked up at him and did my best to hide the blush that was crawling up my throat and into my face, making me look even more like a child.

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Do you understand that it's an offense punishable with prison time to defraud the government, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you also realize that if convicted of that crime, you would _never_ be able to serve in the Army?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, I won't be seeing your face in here until . . . ?"

"June 20th, 1919," my mother supplied helpfully.

"Right. Next June 20th?"

"That's correct, sir."

"Good. Now go home and take care of your mother, son. You'll have plenty of years left to serve your country when you turn 18."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and ma'am?" the sergeant said more quietly. "Don't go too hard on him, ma'am. It's a good boy that wants to serve his country well."

"I'll be the judge of what's too harsh, son," she said sharply. Then she turned herself and me around and marched us out of the office and back into the July sun.

I sulked in my room, surrounded by papers that told stories of the war efforts and how they were winding down. I knew that by the time my next birthday came around, there would no longer be a war to fight in. My mother was anxiously anticipating this outcome. She would like nothing better than for me to join the army in peace time, have my higher schooling paid for and never see a day of active duty.

But I would not be content with that life. Of course, I would join on the day I turned 18. I already had the necessary paperwork that could be filled out in advance done and neatly stored in my roll top desk. The minute I turned 18, I would be waiting for the enlistment office to open with my papers in hand ready to finally enlist. But, contrary to my mother's wishes, I would not take my education and then leave the army when I had finished.

My parents had my life neatly planned out for me. In their eyes, there could be nothing better than if I were to follow in my father's footsteps, joining his firm as a successful defense attorney. My mother had her sights set on grandchildren, of course. She enjoyed inviting families with young daughters to our house for supper in the hopes that one would catch my eye and distract me from my goal. Many of the girls were pretty and they were nice, but they were so predictable. They all made cross stitch samplers and were learning how to make the freshest preserves. And when my father or I made a joke, they tittered in their handkerchiefs and then sat quietly and expectantly, waiting for our next question. How was this supposed to tempt me away from my dream of a soldier's life?

My mother felt badly about embarrassing me at the recruitment office, so she had invited one of my father's business partners and his family over for dinner this evening. He had a daughter, naturally, who was just about my age. We had met on several occasions and, although both of our parents had it in mind that we would make a perfect couple, neither of us were very interested in the other. For two other people, this may have been uncomfortable. But, I liked Anna just fine. She was a good friend and I never felt threatened or uncomfortable when she and her parents came for dinner. We had long since given up the game of feigning interest for our parent's sake; we were just friends and we liked each other's company quite a lot. I was thankful to my mother for inviting them and not one of the other families this evening. It would be comforting to speak with a friend and play board games; it might even take my mind off of my humiliation.

"When are the Scotts due to arrive, mother?" I asked, snatching an apple from the basket on the counter.

She looked at me severely, but with a smile playing on her lips.

"They'll be here at 7:00 sharp, so look your best," she said, waving her wooden spoon at me.

"I will," I said, polishing the apple on my shirt.

"I heard that Anna is applying to Vassar for the fall session," my mother said, stirring the sauce on the stove.

"Oh?" I asked. "Is she applying anywhere else, or just as Vassar?"

"I couldn't say," she said, eyeing me. "Aren't you the least bit surprised?"

"Surprised? No, of course not. Anna has always had an interest literature. Why wouldn't she apply at Vassar? She certainly has the grades to attend there and they offer one of the best programs."

"Oh, I'm not talking about which school she's applying to, Edward! Why would she even need to go to college? It's not as if the girl is plain!"

"Mother," I said, shaking my head. "Anna wouldn't be content to just keep house. That's not what she fancies."

"Maybe she just hasn't had the right offer," she suggested.

I shook my head at her, smiling. "You know that we don't feel that way about each other, Mom. I like Anna, almost as much as I like you! She's a wonderful girl. But I'm not in love with her. And, what's more, she's not in love with me."

My mother and I had had this conversation before, but there was a new fervor in her eyes. She wasn't ready to let this slide away.

"Edward," she said, coming around to stand in front of me. She barely came to my chin, but when she looked up into my eyes I felt like a little child again. "I want you to be happy, son. Maybe there's more than one way for you to be happy?"

"I love you, mom," I said and kissed her forehead. "I see the way you light up when father walks in from work. I see the way you are the first thing he sees when he comes in the door. Of course I want that! And of course I want to make some girl that happy! But I can't make those feeling just appear out of no where. And, if I tried, they wouldn't be the same, would they? I might not know much about love yet, mother, but I know enough to know when I'm _not_ in it."

She patted my cheek and smiled at me then.

"You've always been different, son," she said. "You've always known just exactly what you wanted. I may not always approve of your choices, but I don't doubt that you'll know when the right thing comes along. And, someday, you'll make some girl the happiest wife alive." She sighed then and walked back around to stir her sauce. "I just hope I'm alive to see it happen," she said, with a teasing, wistful tone that let me know the serious discussion was over for the night. "Go upstairs and get yourself dressed. They'll be here in an hour. You know Mrs. Scott is always looking for something to gossip about!"

"Yes mom," I said, and came back around to give her a last squeeze. "Thank you."

"Well, whatever was that for?" she said with a smile.

"For loving me enough to ask tough questions. I know I don't always make it easy on you. But I do love you. And I'm sorry if I disappoint you with my goals and how I don't want to be a husband yet." I mumbled the last, embarrassed to be saying it, but I felt she deserved some apology.

She turned to me then, all humor gone from her face. She was stern now.

"Edward Anthony Masen, you have never disappointed me," she said and her voice broke. "Maybe I never made this clear to you before, but by God you'll understand tonight if it's the last thing I do. I don't want to be a soldier's mother. Not because I think it's a bad profession or even because I think it's less than what you're worth. I don't want to be a soldier's mother because soldiers' mothers have to cry over their son's graves when the government ships their bodies back. Soldiers' mothers get to carry a flag instead of a grandbaby. And soldiers' mothers never die before their sons. They live on after their sons are cold and in the ground. I don't want that to be me standing over your grave, Edward. Do you understand me. I'd rather be a lawyer's mother because a lawyer's mother isn't made to weep."

She was crying now and I felt helpless in front of her tears. I didn't want her to cry now. Not ever. I walked over to her and took her in my arms and started smoothing her brown curls. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to make you cry. Shh, Mom. I'm not going to die."

She cried in my arms for only a couple of minutes, but they were the longest minutes in my life, I think. I had never seen her cry like that, at least not about me. When she pulled away from me, her face was puffy and her hair was a little messy. There was a look in her eye, though, that frightened me. It was different from before, far away almost.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, her voice stronger now. "But that has been coming for a while now, and it's time you knew why I was so set against your choice to enlist. I want you to think about that. I don't like to guilt you into things, but if I have to, I will. After all, a mother will do whatever it takes to save her son. No matter the cost."

Her last words came out with the resonance of a preacher on a pulpit. I had heard that tone before, and always, before it gave me chills. Now, I felt as if I might never be warm again. I just nodded my head and looked at her again. I walked away and up to my room in order to clear my head and get ready for our guests.

My mother had given me a lot to think about, and it was not just about joining the army. My mother was different in many ways that most people. She was born Elizabeth Barrett, the daughter to first generation Irish immigrants to Chicago and she was extremely superstitious. The Barrett women were known to have the gift of prophecy. In this new world, talking about prophecy and knowing the future sounded ridiculous. But, my mother's dreams had never led her wrong. The look in her eyes when she talked to me about a mother saving her son at any price was the same look that she had in her eyes when she was speaking of her dreams. Something told me that my mother had had a dream about me; she knew that she was going to need to save me. I was only left to wonder if she knew what she was saving me from or if it was a mystery still.

After dressing in my mother's favorite suit, I went downstairs to help her finish with last minute chores. Her face had completely cleared. Looking at her now, I wondered what had made me think that there was anything sinister surrounding her words. She was just a mother concerned with her son's direction in life. I shook my head as I carried the brandy decanter into my father's study. My mother accused me from time to time of having an overactive imagination. I had been trying to put that to rest now that I had set my sights on soldiering for a living. It didn't seem very practical to be an imaginative soldier.

The Scotts arrived on the dot of seven, punctual as always. I stood with my parents to greet our friends. To be fair, my mother was right; Anna was not plain. She was short, but not in a stubby way. Rather her body was compact and lithe, like a dancer's. She had hair that was always in movement, curls on top of curls that played around her face in bouncing ringlets. Her hair was the most interesting color of brown, darting with streaks of red and blonde. And her eyes were nearly the same shade, sparkling with both intelligence and humor. I think it was her smile that really completed the picture. She smiled easily and honestly. She didn't hide her humor like so many girls were taught to do.

Of course, tonight she ruined the whole effect by sticking her tongue out at me behind her mother's back. I had to cough back a laugh so as not to expose her. I'm almost certain that my mother saw it and laughed as well. After the formalities were through, we commenced with dinner. It was a stifling affair, as all formal dinner were. Underage, as always, Anna and I were made to sit and eat silently unless addressed directly. My parents never stood on such formalities normally, but the Scotts, particularly Mr. Scott, were an overly formal family and my parents worked very hard to make their guests comfortable.

I felt very bad for my friend when talk turned to her recent application to Vassar. It was clear that she was uncomfortable with the subject, but our parents were not cooperating with her wishes.

"So, Anna, I hear that you are applying to Vassar for the Fall," my father said.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "I submitted my application at the end of last term. I hope to hear from them by the beginning of next school year."

"Yes," her father said, dismissal evident in his tone. "She's applied there and Mount Holyoke as well. I've no doubt that she will be accepted, what with the donations that they know they will get."

Anna's face turned a light shade of crimson as she fought down her comment. I knew that she was thinking about her near perfect scores at school.

"I had heard that Anna achieved remarkable grades last year at school," my mother said, looking at her plate, a wry upturn at the corner of her mouth nearly betraying her to the rest of the guests.

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Scott gushed. "She received nearly perfect scores in all of her classes. We were quite proud of her. The school are certain--" she quieted immediately with a look from her husband.

"Her grades are good. But I keep telling her that no man is going to ask for her transcript before he marries her. Isn't that right, Edward?" he asked, laughing loudly.

I looked pleadingly over at my mother who shook her head imperceptibly at me in warning. But my father, always a gentleman, came to my rescue. And Anna's.

"Actually, Winston, Edward has always talked about how important it is to him to find someone who stimulates him intellectually. He's very well read, my son. He doesn't want to have to discuss_ Good Housekeeping_ every night at dinner, that's for sure!" He chuckled at his joke, although no one else at the table laughed.

I was grateful to my father for so deftly rescuing that disaster. I couldn't have agreed with Mr. Scott without hurting my friend and I couldn't have disagreed with him without displeasing my parents. Only my father, Mr. Scott's equal could do that. I was beginning to see how impressive what Anna was doing by applying to Vassar was. I realized from Mr. Scott's dismissive tone that he expected to have her married off before her graduation. He was just humoring her. But she took this much more seriously than that. This was important to her. And she would take the opportunity however it was handed to her. I admired her very much.

"Your father is an amazing man," Anna said when we were alone in the sitting room playing checkers while our mothers drank tea and watched us from the kitchen.

"Yes," I agreed, still in awe of how he handled the earlier situation. "He likes to save the day."

She giggled into her hand.

"Well, that _is_ an understatement for this evening, Edward. What _were_ you planning to do?"

I shook my head and began to smile.

"Of course I was going to gallantly come to your defense! But, surely you can see why it was better for my father to intercede. Now we can still be friends."

She laughed again and nodded.

"I am glad of that," she said, more seriously now. "I'm glad that I have a friend like you, Edward. You do understand why I want to go to Vassar, don't you? You don't think I'm terribly foolish as my father does?" Anna sounded wistful, as if she just wanted someone to understand her.

"Of course not," I said immediately. "Anna, you're one of the brightest girls I know. If anyone can get something special out of a Vassar education, it's you."

"You know, you're not too dull yourself. You'd do well at Yale or Kings if you'd just apply."

"Not you too," I groaned. "Did mother get to you?"

"I don't do your mother's bidding any more than I do anyone else's. I'm just worried about you. Tom Flannery told me he saw you and your mother leaving the recruitment office two days ago. Did you try to enlist early again and she caught you?" she asked, leaning in conspiratorially. I flushed at the remembrance.

I told Anna all about it; like I said, I was comfortable around her. And it did feel good to talk about it.

She shook her head and I thought she was going to sympathize with me.

"Good for your mum, then," she said strongly.

"What?" I said, shocked. "What kind of a friend are you? You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Not when you're being a donkey," she said, eyes wide and challenging.

"A-- what did you call me? That's not very lady-like, Anna Scott," I said angrily. We were whispering of course, but I could tell we were beginning to get loud enough to draw some attention from the kitchen.

"Shh," Anna said, giggling again. "I'm sorry. It's just that you need to think about all of this. Why do you want to throw your life away when the war is going to be over soon anyway?"

"You wouldn't understand," I said, shaking my head.

"You're right, Edward. I've never done anything that most people think is foolish," she said, rolling her eyes at me.

And so I told her about my dreams of living a soldier's life. And she never laughed once at me. I wished in that moment that I could fall in love with her. She seemed to understand me and we shared the bond of two people doing things that the rest of the world thought were crazy, or at least our own families. But, I didn't love her. However, I knew that I would always watch over her and she would always be one of my best friends.


	2. Checkmate

**_Big hugs to everyone who reviewed so far. And I big "I'm sorry" for this taking so long to update. I wrote the first chapter in a frenzy of excitement at my new idea and then realized I had no idea where to take the story from there! So, I took a couple of days to really think about how I wanted this story to flow and wrote out some outline for it. I think I have it figured out a bit better now, and I hope to update at least every other day (I'm still alternating between this and The Time is at Hand). Enjoy this chapter. Lots happen._**

"You and Anna seemed to have a good time last night," my mother began as soon as I entered the kitchen the next morning.

"Of course," I said. "We always have a good time."

"Edward, some of the best marriages have started with less than that."

I shook my head as I took the oatmeal she was handing me.

"You don't believe that and neither do I."

"What is it you're looking for?" she asked.

"I don't know yet. But when I find her, I'm sure I'll know."

She just shook her head at me, but she was smiling.

"I thought that I would go over to the General Store today. Anna heard from Tom Flannery that a few of the boys in my year are meeting there to put up signs promoting war bonds. Would that be alright?"

She looked at me skeptically. I knew that she hadn't forgotten our trip to the enlistment office.

"It's only putting signs up?"

"I promise, mom. You can ring Mrs. Flannery if you don't believe me."

"I believe you," she said quickly. "Don't give me reason to be sorry for that, young man."

When I arrived at the general story, I wasn't surprised to see Tom already sitting on the curb with a hefty stack of war bond posters beside him.

"We're going to put all of them up by noon?" I said jovially. "It better be more than just you and me, Tommy!"

"Edward! Good to see you, man! I thought you would be a no-show for sure. Did your mum give in then?"

"She hadn't said I couldn't go out, Tom," I said, embarrassed immediately. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well I saw you, didn't I?" he asked, wide-eyed. "I thought you were a goner for sure when I saw her face. She looked fit to kill you on the street. What did the sergeant say then?"

"He was alright," I mumbled. I didn't want to have to rehash this again.

Luckily, Bill Leeds and Pat Mulligan showed up just at that moment and talk of my disastrous enlistment attempt was lost in divvying up the posters. Tom only had two hammers, so we would split into two groups and spread out from the general store, tacking them to every telephone pole that we saw along the way.

I ended up with Tom which was fine by me. At least he wouldn't be able to talk about my mother's fit with either of the other two now.

"So, why do you think your folks are so against you joining, Edward?" he asked after we had put up a few of the signs.

"I don't think their against it, really, Tom. They just want me to wait until I'm 18," I said. _And the war is over_, I continued in my head.

"But everyone else is joining early," he said.

"What everyone else is doing never made much of a difference to my mother," I said.

He sort of shrugged and nodded his head. His family had been friends with mine for a while and he knew my folks well enough to know that was truth. We put up the rest of the signs in companionable silence. I knew that he was thinking about me and my mom. But he wasn't going to ask me any more questions. He thought my mother was pretty. I had no reason to think that, but I had caught him looking at her a couple of times and I didn't like the way he stared at her.

That happened to me a lot, really. I was sure that I knew what people were thinking about me and the people I cared about. Often times, I was right. Mother said that I was a good judge of character. Maybe, someday, I would make the army a good enlistment officer, judging the character of the boys who wished to serve their country.

It took us until nearly one o'clock to put up all of those signs. I was thirsty and tired, but proud for having done _something_ to serve my country. The four of us were treated to soda pop and sandwiches by the owner of the general store. The owner, Mr. Freedman, had a son who was killed on the USS _Maine_ in '98. The most central photo in the entire shop was a large, clipped out newspaper photo of the wreckage of the Maine on which Mr. Freedman had written in shaky red letters: _Remember the Maine, To hell with Spain!_ People pitied Mr. Freedman because his wife died tragically in childbirth and his only son was lost in the fateful sinking, but he wasn't a bitter man. And he loved his country fiercely. He fed us that day in thanks for our service to our country.

"Edward," Mr. Freedman called to me, as we were getting up to leave. "Can I talk to you for a minute, son?"

"Of course, Mr. Freedman," I looked at my companions, and Tommy rolled his eye at me. I knew that the rest of my group found him boring, but I liked him fine. I said my goodbyes to my friends and turned back around to face the old man behind the counter.

"Edward, I've known you since you were a wee lad," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said, smiling. "I remember my father bringing me in here for soda pop when I was too small to sit on the stools."

He chuckled. "You were always a polite young man," he said, shaking his head.

"Thank you, sir," I said, but I was confused. I didn't understand why he wanted to speak to me alone. All of the four of us who had worked today had been coming to Freedman's General since we were toddlers.

"Edward, why do you torture your mother so?" he asked me suddenly. When I met his eyes, they were blazing with some emotion that I couldn't understand.

"Sir?" I asked, redness creeping into my cheeks and my brows knitting together in confusion.

"I lost my Charlie when he was only a few years older than you. I gave him to this country gladly and I couldn't have stopped him even if I wanted to. He had his heart set on serving from the time he was knee-high." He smiled sadly, remembering his son as a small boy. Then he turned his eyes on me and the blazing emotion was back in his eyes again. "But now, I come home every night to an empty house. His room is still there, but he'll never open that door again. He'll never come in here to tell me about his day again. He'll never--" he paused, unsure or unable to go on. "He'll never do anything again, Edward. And I can't ever take it back."

I just looked at him, unsure of how to answer his statements. I had never seen this side of Mr. Freedman. He was always chipper and positive and patriotic. I didn't understand what had brought on this change in his actions. His answer made me wonder if he _could_ read my mind.

"It doesn't make your mother less of a patriot to want her son alive and breathing in her home instead of cold and dead in a trench in Germany, son." He said the last words hard and sad. "It just makes her a good mother."

"Mr. Freedman," I said, helplessly, running my fingers through my hair in the nervous habit that my mother had tried fruitlessly to break me of. "I . . . I'm . . . I'm so sorry, sir."

"You needn't apologize to me, son. It's just that I understand more than most how strongly your folks feel about this."

"But, the sign, sir? And the lunch?" I knew that I shouldn't ask questions in the face of his grief, but all of this information was too much for me. He surprised me, though. He chuckled a bit.

"You and my Charlie would have gotten along very well, Edward. Peas in a pod, you two. I hate the Spanish because they took my boy away from me. I fed you boys because you're serving your country without ever leaving Chicago. Every night, before I go to bed, I pray that this damn fool war will be over before any more of the boys that I served soda pop to as children get turned into soldiers and brought back here in wooden boxes. I still love my country, Edward, I'm just tired of seeing my boy die over and over again in the faces of boys like you."

I hung my head then, ashamed at having questioned his loyalty or his patriotism. It was stupid of me, insensitive.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, son. Wanting to serve your country? It's a good thing. But you don't have to throw your life away to do it. And that's all your mother wants you to know."

"Yes, sir," I mumbled, still ashamed at my impertinence. I felt like I had somehow made his grief worse.

"Here," he said, as he ducked below the counter. "You father always did like my cinnamon rolls. Take some of these home to him and your mother. Tell them I send my best. And--just enjoy what you've got, Edward. Just enjoy the hell out of it."

His language shocked me. Adults didn't usually talk that way to kids. But, somehow, I knew that he didn't see me as just a kid right now. That conversation that he had given me was for an adult. I was an adult and he was asking me to make the right decision for my mother, for my family. And, when he put it like that, I couldn't really argue much with his logic. I thanked him for the cinnamon rolls and headed out the door, more confused than I had been in a long time.

I walked home mulling over all of the things that Mr. Freedman had said to me. Only a small part of me was disturbed by just how many people seemed to be aware of what had gone on in the enlistment office. More than that, I was trying to make sense of the things that Mr. Freedman had said to me. Death was part of a soldier's life; I had known that. But, put in the light of my parent's sorrow, it was a whole lot more upsetting to me. I didn't ever want to think of my mother looking like Mr. Freedman did when he described his son's empty room. I shook my head in the still too-hot early evening air. This was something I didn't have an answer for.

I heard it while I was still out on the street in front of my house. The notes drifted through the open windows like tinkling bells. My mother was playing her piano. I smiled at the thought; it had been a long time. I walked up the back steps slowly and quietly, not wanting her to hear me enter the house. I wanted to sit in the kitchen and listen to her play.

I softly closed the kitchen door behind me and I wasn't surprised to see my father looking sheepishly at me from one of the chairs. It seemed I wasn't the only one attempting subterfuge to listen to my mother play. Wordlessly, we sat across from each other and listened to the notes seamlessly flowing from her fingertips. _Clair de Lune. _It was my favorite and I smirked at my father. She knew we were here.

My mother had been taught to play by her own mother and she played very well. But she rarely played anymore. Even though we had the beautiful piano, she didn't sit down to it as often as we would like her to. She had tried once, when I was much smaller, to teach me how to play, but I didn't have the patience. She smiled and laughed at me as I banged the keys. "I want to play like you, Mother!" I shouted angrily. She giggled and sat me next to her as she lightly tapped out the melodies to some of my favorite songs. I was happy listening to her, but I never was able to play like her.

As I listened to the notes, I looked down at the paper lying open on the table. Opened the third page, a headline jumped out at me: **Philadelphians Panic as Health Officials Offer Warnings about the "Spanish Influenza."** I looked up at my father questioningly, but it was clear from the look on his face that it hadn't been him that opened the paper. He looked down at it then, a look of concern darting across his face.

The music from the other room stopped abruptly at the end of the composition. We heard the bench grate slightly against the wooden floor, and composed ourselves to look natural as she entered the kitchen.

"Hello, boys," she said, before she even entered the room.

We both chuckled.

"Hello, love," my father said, walking to greet her with a kiss on the forehead.

"Hello, mother," I said softly from the table. Mr. Freedman's words were still very fresh in my mind and it was difficult to look at her without seeing that look of desperation in his eyes.

"Edward," she said, pleased to see me after my long day. "How did your work go? I was expecting you home sooner."

"I'm sorry, Mother," I said. "The boys and I were treated to a late lunch and soda by Mr. Freedman."

"That was very kind of him," she said. "I'll have to write him a little note to thank him for his kindness."

"I stayed after the others had left and spoke with him a bit. And he sent home a package for you and father." I brought the cinnamon rolls out from under the table.

Father smiled in anticipation of his favorite treat, but mother's smile was more knowing.

"Mr. Freedman is a lovely man," she said then, coming over and taking the rolls. "He's always been very fond of you, Edward."

I looked down at the table, embarrassed by the pride in her voice and the words that Mr. Freedman and I had shared that afternoon.

"What did you speak of?" she asked lightly.

"We spoke of the war, of course," I began hesitantly. "And some other things."

My father stood at the kitchen counter, watching this exchange with interest and humor. He took great pleasure in watching my mother wheedle things out of people, especially when he wasn't on the receiving end.

"Other things?" she hummed. "Mr. Freedman has had a very interesting life, to be sure."

"Indeed," I said, still looking at the grain of the wooden table, not wanting to meet her pale green gaze.

"It's nice that you took some time to talk with him. I know that he gets lonely." I looked up then. It was a mistake. She was looking at me knowingly.

"It wasn't a problem," I said truthfully. "He's a good man. I like him."

She smiled at me then. I only had a brief moment where I wondered if she had put him up to this afternoon's conversation. But I almost immediately felt guilty for that. Mr. Freedman was too genuine in his grief and anxiety to have been put up to anything. My mother just knew things like this.

"That's good, Edward. You're a good boy," she said and ran her fingers through my hair like a child. Any other day I might have minded her treating me like a child. Not today.

She turned to my father.

"I'd like to speak with you before dinner, dear," she said. I could almost hear the arch in her brow as she said it. Immediately my father's eyes darted to me and the paper laying open on the table.

"Edward," he said, looking back to me. "Would you mind very much going into my study for a moment? I've left a book there for you that I would like you to look at. I thought that we might discuss it a bit tonight over chess?"

I looked back at him levelly, balking now at being treated like a child. I knew that they were about to discuss something important, something that they thought might upset me. I wanted to know! I wanted them to treat me like an adult like Mr. Freedman had this afternoon. But the look in my father's eye gave me no outs. _You will obey_, it said.

I rose from the table glaring at him. He shook his head slightly, looking into my mutinous glare with something close to pleading. I suddenly understood the look and the suggestion he had given me. I couldn't stay, but he wouldn't stop me from listening. I nodded, continuing to glare.

"I'll be in the study," I said.

My father's study was probably my least favorite room in the house. As a child, it was where all of my discipline occurred. It was a shame, really. I adored reading and this is where we kept all of the books. But I couldn't step foot in here without remembering with clarity the fear I had always felt when my father glared at me over his large desk. I felt that way now as I entered the study, catching sight of the book that my father had laid out for me: _Under Fire_, by Henri Barbusse. I snorted silently. I had heard about this book from others. It seemed today was the day to bombard me with reasons not to go to war.

I sat down in the chair nearest the door with the book opened in my hand as I listened intently to the conversation in the other room.

"Your sister Clara wired today from Scranton," my mother said lowly.

"Oh?" father responded. There was a pause and some rustling.

"It seems things are worse than the papers are letting on here," my mother said sourly. "She's very concerned about this whole situation."

"But the _Sun_ reported that they only major problems have been on army bases," my father cajoled.

"Well, the Fort Riley fatalities have certainly been highly publicized, but Clara said that she knows of at least four of her friends who know people who have it," mother said.

"Four is--" father began, but I could almost see mother holding up her hand for him to stop.

"It doesn't matter if it's a small number, Edward," she said angrily. "If it's getting closer to Clara and Edie we need to do something soon!"

I groaned inwardly. _Please God, don't let them come here,_ I prayed silently.

"What do you propose?" father asked.

"We have plenty of room in the upstairs. Clara and Edie can move in here until this is all over."

I had to work to keep that groan silent. It wasn't that I didn't try to be cordial to my cousin, it was that she despised me and never hesitated to let me know about. I reminded myself that it was vitally important to pay attention now.

"Do you really feel that's necessary?" father asked skeptically. "Are the people that Clara mentioned _very_ ill?"

"Edward!" my mother snapped at him. "Does that matter to you? Do people near them need to _die_ in order to make you want to take them in."

My father began to hedge and I silently tried to send my father strength knowing, of course, that it was nearly futile at this point.

"Did Clara ask to come here?" he asked finally.

"No," my mother said. "Of course she wouldn't be so intrusive as to ask to come here. But, we're her only family now. How could we not make the offer?"

I heard my father sigh and kiss her on the forehead. It was over and, of course, my mother had won.

"I'll wire her in the morning and see what's to be done," he said.

This time I did groan aloud and I heard my father chuckle.

"Edward Anthony!" my mother called from the kitchen. "Have you been listening this whole time?"

I snapped the book closed, thankful that I had opened the prop.

"What's that, mother? Did you need help with setting the table?" I asked innocently. I knew that I had been caught, but I was back-peddling quickly, trying to salvage some shred of dignity. I stood up then to meet them as they walked toward the study, clutching my father's book at my side.

"Don't play coy with me, young man. Did you hear the things we were saying?"

Looking into her eyes, I couldn't lie to her face. I couldn't even pretend that I didn't know what she was asking.

"Yes, ma'am," I said sheepishly.

"Good," she said, surprising me. "I want you to know how serious this situation is. It's likely your aunt and cousin will be coming to live with us here and I want you to understand, in no uncertain terms, that I won't put up with any trouble from you about this situation. I know that you and Edie haven't always gotten along--." She broke off when she saw my eyes rolling at the statement. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

"Aw, mom, you know how she is," I began, trying hard to keep the whine out of my voice but highly embarrassed that I heard it creeping in. "She can't stand me! She thinks I'm vulgar and crude and I don't even know why! I can't do anything to please her even though I've tried. I can't imagine having to live in a house with her!"

"Well, you're just going to have to try harder," my mother said imperiously. "There's no other way for it, Edward. I won't have anyone in our family living close to that death trap if we have the means and the room to help them."

I dropped my eyes from her and nodded my head.

"Maybe it won't be so bad, son," my father ventured warily. "It's been almost two years since we've seen cousin Edie. She's nearly sixteen now; perhaps she's grown a bit over the years?"

I looked at him ironically. He knew how ludicrous what he was saying really was. Aunt Clara _was _his sister, after all. He looked back at me apologetically and I realized he wanted this a little as I did. But my mother wouldn't be moved. And so now we would both suffer.

"Why don't we go to the study, son? I'm sure that book gave you a lot to think about--?"

"Dinner will be in an hour," my mother said, looking at us both with reproach.

I nodded, happy to be able to leave my mother's angry gaze. She disapproved not only of my own reaction to spending time with my cousin, but my father's approval and acceptance of my reaction. To her, it wouldn't have mattered if Clara and Edie were the nastiest, meanest women on the face of the earth; they were family, and that meant they were our responsibility. She took that responsibility seriously. For some reason, Mr. Freedman's words from this afternoon came back to me and I softened a bit to my mother's feelings. Maybe this was more of the same.

My father put his arm around me as we walked into his study.

"This is going to be difficult on everyone," he said in nearly a whisper.

"I don't understand, father," I said. "If it isn't dangerous--why do they need to come here?"

He motioned to the seat across from him and he brought the chess table down from the shelf where it sat. We always talked easier over a game of chess.

"You need to understand where your mother came from, son."

"What does Ireland have to do with the Spanish flu?" I asked.

He chuckled at me.

"It's not about Ireland exactly, Edward. It's about your mother's family," he said.

I knitted my brows in silent frustration. I hadn't met any of my mother's family . . . _oh._ My father could see when I finally understood and nodded at me.

"You see, Edward, your mother lost every member of her family to some kind of disease. She's petrified that she could lose the only family that we have left to some disease as well. She thinks that if there is something we can do, we have a duty to do it. I can't find fault with her logic, son, as much as I would like to."

I knew that my father's relationship with his sister was very much like my relationship with my cousin. Clara had lost her husband not long after Edie's birth and she lived off of the inheritance that was left to her after he died as well as generous contributions from my father. She liked to remain independent and resented the fact that she and her daughter relied heavily on my father's assistance. I knew adjusting her living situation from Scranton where she had the illusion of independence to Chicago where she would be under my father's roof would do nothing for her temper or attitude.

"Clara is going to be difficult, and not just to me." He trailed off as he pondered which pawn to move in response to my bishops threat.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, curious at once. My mother and Clara had never had a _close_ relationship, but they got along much better than she and my father did.

My father looked at me and smiled warmly at me.

"Your mother is a wonderful woman, Edward," he said fondly. I rolled my eyes. Of course she was a wonderful woman. Almost everyone is Chicago knew that.

"I know that it seems an obvious assertion to you, but I don't know that you really appreciate how truly unique and wonderful she is." His voice took on a most wistful quality and I began to get very uncomfortable. I wasn't used to my father talking to me about my mother like this.

"You're getting to be a man, Edward. You're going to find yourself a wife someday--" He held up his hand to stop me from protesting or denying it. "I don't mean this year or next, but sometime you're going to find yourself a wife, Edward. It's about time you realize how singular a woman like your mother is, and how important it is to snatch her up once you find her."

This was definitely a first. I cleared my throat in embarrassment. I could just tell that this was going to be uncomfortable.

"Your Aunt Clara is a good woman, but she's used to having her own way. Your mother knows this, and yet she is still willing to bring her into her own home, share her household with her, in order to save her life. That takes a special kind of woman, Edward. A special kind of person. My reluctance at having Clara here is not for me, but for her. Clara is going to be demanding and bossy and it will be a difficult balance for your mother, who is used to having the run of this house on her own."

I took all this in and realized that my father was right. I hadn't thought of how difficult it would be for my mother to share her house with my aunt.

"I guess I hadn't thought of it that way," I said as I removed my fathers pawn.

"Of course not," my father laughed heartily. "You're not a husband yet!"

I looked at him, not sure whether to agree or laugh. He just shook his head.

"I'm not expecting you to understand right now, son. I just want you to look out for your mother once Aunt Clara and Edie come. She won't show you or I, but this _is_ going to be difficult for her. I won't be here during the day, and I'll need you to look out for her."

I cocked my head to the side, thinking. It made the thought of the coming year more bearable for me, knowing that I would be doing something so important to my father. I may not be able to be the soldier that I had dreamed of being just yet, but I might be able to be my father's eyes and ears while he was away from the house.

My father moved his queen then, exposing the king and I knew that in just four moves I would have a checkmate. I worked hard to keep the anticipation off of my face, but I knew that it was growing there. I looked up to see my father's lips twitching with amusement.

"You're so transparent, Edward," he said and knocked over his king. "I always know when you have me beat." We laughed and righted the board for when we came back to the study after dinner.

**_A/N: You can get information about the sinking of the USS Maine, which began the Spanish American war in 1898, through about . com. Also, the book that was mentioned, Under Fire, was originally published in French by a French soldier serving during World War I, detailing his experiences in the trenches. Although there were many books published at the time about the war, this was the first to really go into detail about the hardships of trench warfare. It seemed like the perfect book for Edward's parents to hoist on him._**

**_I love reviews!! So, let me know what you think! ~Jen_**


	3. Preparing for a Visit

**_A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and added this story to their favorites and what not. I appreciate it so much. A great big thank you to Emerald Star73 who has agreed to Beta for me! Such a huge help! You'll notice that this chapter begins with Edward and his father going to the telegraph office. This came from something that Emerald Star pointed out to me. Even though it was possible for Edward and his family to have a phone at this time, it wouldn't have been feasible for them to call long distance. I will be going back and fixing that anachronism in Chapter two. It won't change the story noticably at all, so you won't miss anything if you don't go back. Anyway, hope you enjoy and review away! ~Jen_**

**_As you know, I don't own Edward (sigh) or any other of SM's characters. They are the sole property of SM. No copyright infringement intended._**

* * *

I walked with my father to the telegraph office early the next morning to wire my aunt and my cousin about coming to live with us. My father was worried on our walk there about the way to word the telegram. He didn't want to make her feel as though we were offering her charity; rather, he was offering her a safe haven.

"Perhaps you should tell her that Mother is concerned for her safety," I suggested. "It could ease her reluctance and soften her up to Mother at the same time."

He stopped then and turned to me smiling.

"You're a very smart boy," he said, shaking his head. "I'll have to word it just right. We don't want Clara to think that your mother is ordering her here. That would do no one any good. But, with just the right finesse we just might be able to win her over."

He started walking quicker and I could tell the words were moving around in his head as he wrote and rewrote his wire again and again. I had walked with my father many times as he wrote briefs this way. I found it fascinating to watch his mind work. My father was a very successful defense lawyer. Chicago had, of course, offered him a plethora of opportunity to practice his craft. He was able, after several years of starting his own firm, to begin getting more choosey with his clientele. He was able to turn down the most vile of his potential clients and defend only those whom he believed to be innocent. My mother had once remarked to me that I had inherited my father's innate ability to judge character. It made me very proud that while other lawyers in this city were making their money defending wealthy men who were no doubt guilty as sin, my father chose to make his money defending people whom he believed were innocent. And he made a very good living doing just that.

Father opened the door of the telegraph office and strode up to the desk, fully prepared to issue his wire to his sister. In the space of under two minutes he had worked the problem through his head and come out with a suitable way to address the issue.

"Ah, Mr. Masen, sir. How can I help you today?" the young clerk behind the counter smiled up at my father. I knew that my father was well known and respected in the area, but it still gave me a small thrill at how openly the people in the town respected him. I could see in the way he interacted with the operator that he had earned his respect thoroughly.

"Good morning, John," my father said, holding out his hand. "How are you, son?"

"I'm well sir. And yourself?"

"Fine, fine. I need to send a telegraph to my sister in Scranton."

"Right away, sir," he said, ducking below the desk for a moment and coming up with a pencil and a telegraph form. "Ready, sir," he said, all business now.

"Elizabeth concerned about dire circumstances of influenza near Philadelphia STOP

Would like you and Edie to visit STOP

Please wire planned time date of arrival STOP

We urge you not to tarry STOP STOP."

John took down the entire dictation without hesitation. He looked up and licked his lips nervously.

"County, sir?" he asked tentatively.

"The Hill section of Scranton, Pennsylvania," my father said without missing a beat.

It was clear the emotions that were passing behind the young telegraph operator's eyes. Although talk of Influenza is not as prevalent as the war, people cannot hear about relatives on the East Coast without thinking of the disease. It was fairly obvious from the look on John's face now that he understood why my father was beckoning his sister home.

"This will be sent out presently, Mr. Masen," he said. "My best regards to your family, sir."

"Well, thank you, son. And to yours," my father added lightly.

We turned from the desk only to be met by the calculating glare of Mrs. Scott. The mask of frivolity that my father had in place at the desk fell slightly as he looked at Mrs. Scott's overeager face.

"Ah, Mrs. Scott," he said quickly. "How lovely to run into you. How are you and Anna doing this morning?"

"Quite well, Mr. Masen, thank you," she said, nudging Anna.

"Good morning, Mr. Masen," she said lowly. "Edward."

"Good morning," we intoned together.

"Well, we must be on our way now," my father said after a moment. "Clients won't wait forever!"

"Oh Mr. Masen!" Mrs. Scott called as my father passed her.

He turned and faced her and she kept her eyes steadily on his. It was no mean feat; he had stared at me in such a way before. My father could be a very imposing figure.

"I couldn't help but overhear the wire that you sent, presumably to your sister?" she said, her voice raising slightly into a question at the end.

"Yes," my father noncommittally.

"Well, if your sister will be visiting for an extended time, my Anna might be just the thing her young daughter will need in this large city. Isn't Edie just about Anna's age?"

My father looked at Mrs. Scott skeptically.

"Corrine," he said familiarly. "It's so very kind of you to think of Edie's comfort in coming here. However, we are uncertain as to the length of Clara's stay. She has not even agreed to come. This is just an offer that we are making to her--" he trailed off uncomfortably. It made me uncomfortable to see his uncertainty. My father wasn't prepared to answer questions about his sister's arrival.

"Oh, I understand that Edward," Mrs. Scott answered almost conspiratorially. "But surely your niece will want feminine companionship should she and her mother come to visit for any length of time. And, since our families are already so close, it seems so obvious that Anna and Edie should be friends."

Through this exchange, I watched as Anna grew more and more uncomfortable with her mother's advances. Of course she had heard me speak of my cousin and her . . . disposition. Surely she was well aware of the situation that her mother was getting her into. She looked back at me now, looking for some sort of reassurance. I lifted my shoulder slightly, unable to offer her anything other than unspoken support.

"Well, I'm sure that Clara will be most appreciative for the offer of your Anna's friendship. She has always been a good friend to Edward."

"Of course," Mrs. Scott beamed. "You must be getting on your way. Perhaps I'll stop by to see Elizabeth after this errand and see if there is anything I can do to help her prepare for your guests."

"That would be very kind of you, Corrine," my father said, nudging me slightly.

"Oh," I coughed. "Would you care to have me accompany you to our house, Mrs. Scott? My father is no longer in need of my company."

"How very gentlemanly of you, Edward. Yes. If you and Anna would wait outside, I'll be out in just a moment."

I looked at my father and he patted my back.

"Give your mother my love. I will not be home this evening until late, son. Briefings first and then a late meeting with a client."

"Yes, father," I said. "Have a good day."

I turned to Anna as my father walked out the door.

"Shall we?"

We walked outside the telegraph office to wait for her mother. I think that Anna was surprised at her mother for allowing us to walk out of the office without her, but I suspected that Mrs. Scott was getting somewhat desperate for Anna and me to show an interest in each other. I supposed that my father's comment about our friendship might have led her allow us this moment alone.

"Ugh!" Anna exclaimed. "What is she thinking?"

I chuckled. It was exactly like Anna not to hold back her displeasure.

"I suspect that she's thinking Edie would be a good friend for you," I said.

Anna just glared at me.

"Traitor," she muttered. "You know what she means by a 'good friend.' She means a 'girl' friend who will influence me into finding a husband!"

I chuckled again.

"Well, Edie has always been very socially conscious, that's for sure."

Anna rolled her eyes and looked back into the office where her mother was just sidling up to the counter. She turned back to me and inched just a tiny bit closer.

"Is it very bad where your aunt is from? Do you think the flu is dangerous?" she asked, whispering.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "My mother was very worried when she heard that Aunt Clara knew a few people who had contracted the illness." I shrugged.

"Aren't you very worried for them?"

"Honestly, I'm not convinced that there's a serious risk," I said. "My mother feels that if Aunt Clara sees a risk, it's our duty to provide a safe place for her. But, really, only sailors and soldiers have gotten sick. I don't really think that other people will get very sick."

"That's what my father says," Anna replied, sounding completely unconvinced.

"What do you think?" I asked, interested in her tone.

"I've been reading the papers, Edward," she said indignantly. "You're not the only one interested in world events, you know. I've read about all the people who've gotten sick. If soldiers can get it, so can civilians. That's just common sense."

I thought about that for a second.

"But, they wouldn't be exposed as much as soldiers," I argued. "The danger is most for the enlisted men."

She huffed but didn't argue any more. I had a feeling that Anna felt very similarly to my mother about this issue. Mrs. Scott exited the office then, smiling at both of us. We walked back to the house in almost complete silence. I thought about Anna's reluctance to be friends with my cousin. I was fairly sure that although she was reluctant to become Edie's friend, she was glad that we were offering her and my aunt a place to stay. From the brief conversation that she and I had outside of the telegraph office, I gathered that Anna saw the flu as a much greater risk than I did. I knew her to be a feeling girl who wouldn't want anyone, even pushy relatives, to be put in danger. I'd have to work on my ability to feel the same.

My mother was hanging sheets in the back yard when we arrived home. Her face betrayed her surprise at our visitors, but it was clear that she was glad for the help. When Mrs. Scott explained that she had overheard Father at the telegraph office and wanted to help get the house in order for our guests, the look of relief on Mother's face was well worth the aggravation I felt earlier at her words with my father. Anna and I were quickly put to work batting out carpets from the upstairs while my mother and Mrs. Scott stood outside wringing sheets through the press. They were engaged in their own discussion of a welcome party in honor of Clara and Edie's arrival. Completely immersed in details and uninterested in Anna's and my conversation, we were free to continue our conversation from earlier.

"But it doesn't make any sense, Edward!" Anna was arguing quietly. "You say that soldiers are the only ones in danger, but soldiers aren't always separated from the rest of the community. How can you be so sure that the rest of the population won't be affected?"

"I guess I can't be," I admitted. Anna looked superior. "I'm not saying you're right, mind you. All of the reports say that its just the military bases that have been affected. How do you explain that?"

Anna thought hard, thumping absentmindedly on the rug that we had already finished.

"Well, of course the soldiers are the first hit," she reasoned. "They're the ones bringing it in. But, if it spreads as quickly as they say, it's only a matter of time before everyone else starts getting it. Oh! I do hope your aunt and cousin hurry!"

I smiled at my friend.

"Well, Aunt Clara felt strongly enough about it to wire mother. I'm sure she won't waste time if she feels there's any danger to Edie. She doesn't take threats to her daughter lightly."

"What do you think it will be like?" she asked.

I looked at her confused.

"The--flu?" I asked.

"No, of course," she said, rolling her eyes. " Having your family here?"

I thumped the rug again for a few moments as I mulled over her question. I knew that Anna would understand my reluctance at having my cousin around; however, I didn't feel it proper to burden her with my thoughts if she was going to be forced into a friendship with Edie. She should be able to form her own opinion. Knowing Anna, though, she would do that regardless.

"Edie and I had a difficult relationship from the beginning. She and my Aunt Clara are very proper and my family is much more casual. She resented my demeanor from the minute that we met and I've never been able to convince her that I'm anything less than a brute since then. That was twelve years ago and I was five."

Anna giggled at that.

"Well, I'm sure you were just the most insufferable five year old, Edward." I laughed along with her.

My mother looked over quizzically at Anna's and my outburst, but did not comment. The rest of the morning was spent in menial chores and interesting conversation. After a light lunch, Mrs. Scott and Anna left for their own home and I was left to help my mother return the bulk of our work to the house.

We had finished washing, drying and pressing most of the guest laundry that would be needed by that evening. My mother normally didn't ask for my help with such tasks, but given the breadth of work that was required to get the guest rooms in order, I pitched in without her asking. It seemed the least that I could do to fulfill my father's request from the night before. Father did come home late, but with all of the extra house work, my mother and I hadn't eaten supper by the time he had come home. Mother quickly reheated the chicken that she had stored in the ice box from the night before while Father and I set the dining room table. We sat down to dinner later than usual, but happy to be eating together.

"The chicken is delicious, Elizabeth," Father said. "Thank you for waiting for me."

Mother smiled at him warmly.

"Of course, dear. We always enjoy eating with you," she said.

"The telegraph office rang the office this afternoon," he began, looking pointedly at his plate.

"Yes?" Mother asked.

"Clara replied that she would come to Chicago at the beginning of next week and she thanked us for our concern."

My mother sighed in relief and put her silverware down.

"Thank you," she said, looking over at my father, tears forming in her eyes.

"Of course, my love," he said, returning her gaze. I was suddenly looking very intently at the shapes that the vegetables were making on my plate.

After dinner, my father gave me a dollar to go to Freedman's General for ice cream. I thanked him and walked out of the house, but I knew that I wouldn't be going to Freedman's tonight. Instead, I walked over to the center square where I could sit and enjoy the night air. I sat in the large patch of grass under the drooping trees watching the fire flies begin to light the fading night and thought about all of the changes that were about to happen in my household.

I wasn't at all worried about the sickness as it was clear that Anna was. I just didn't see it as anything that could touch us. The papers were very clear that it seemed to be a disease that affected the military most of all. Even my parents' drastic decision to bring Aunt Clara and Edie to live with us didn't worry me as much as it might have. It may have been different had Father not spoken to me of my mother's pervious family history. But knowing that, I knew that the threat, no matter how minor, had to seem devastating to her. And my father never could refuse her when she really wanted something.

Aunt Clara and Edie posed a very interesting problem for my parents. I knew instinctively that it was really my mother that wanted them here. Even though they were my father's family, it was the ghosts of my mother's family that was bringing them here to us. I wondered how that fact would affect the strained relationship that was already in place between my father and his sister. Of course, my aunt wouldn't know that it had been my mother fighting to bring them here, but would she sense it as easily as I had? And how would she handle that knowledge? Would it make her feel indebted to my mother and instill a sense of camaraderie or would it just breed anger and resentment? I didn't know the answers to any of these questions and they worried me.

I knew that if the situations were reversed, my mother would be nothing but thankful for any generosity that was offered to her. She would never feel a moment of regret at having to live under another person's roof. But, given my father's words from last night, I wondered if it would be the same for my aunt. I knew that Mother would never make Aunt Clara feel uncomfortable or indebted. But, given my father's characterization of her, I thought it likely that she would feel that way regardless of my mother's actions. It would make for a difficult home life in the coming months. I wondered just how long the dreaded flu would keep us together.

My thoughts turned to Anna and what this visit would mean to her. Edie was not a bad person by any means, she was just very different than me and my parents. Perhaps it would be good for Anna to have a female friend to confide in. I knew that I was her closest friend. I knew also that people talked about us. It wasn't bad for me; Anna was nothing more than my friend but it didn't hurt my reputation for people to think of me as a potential suitor for her affections. I worried, rather, what people might think of her.

She was too trusting sometimes. She talked to others of our conversations as if they were perfectly natural and normal. I knew that other people thought that we were romantically involved, but if that was the case, we shouldn't be at liberty to talk so freely to each other. People may begin to think ill of her and it might bring her trouble with others who didn't understand. I wondered how Edie would look at Anna's and my relationship. She was so very prim and proper. I feared that she would disapprove of how close Anna and I were without any intention of marrying. I was afraid that Edie would turn on Anna and try to damage her reputation. Then I really would have something to be angry at my cousin for.

I hoped for my mother's sake that Edie and I would be able to put our differences behind us and just coexist peaceably. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting a miracle transformation and us to be the best of friends. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I had offended Edie in some way. Maybe now that I was older, I could change her view of me, make her see that although I was different than her and her mother, I was a good person.

If it hadn't been for my father's talk last night, I probably wouldn't have been thinking any of these things. After all, I didn't like Edie any more than she liked me. I thought she was pompous and artificial. She was exactly like all of those girls that came to visit and vie for my attentions. She tittered into handkerchiefs and never had an original thought. But knowing how much this meant to Mother, I couldn't write off our relationship as easily. It would pain her if she knew I was unhappy and if I acted poorly to our guests, insufferable or not. I had to try to get past Edie's ill thoughts of me.

As the sky began to take on the purpling haze of twilight, I noticed a figure walking through the square. He seemed to be carrying something at his side as he walked, looking around him at the way the light faded through the trees. He seemed content to walk in shadows while the rest of the people sought out the dying rays of the sun, soaking up the last bits of light before the end of the day. I couldn't make out the face of the man as he walked, but something about him drew my eyes to follow him through the square when propriety should have made me look away.

He held himself differently than most. Something about his mostly hidden face spoke of dignity and wisdom, although I couldn't see any of his features clearly. I was intrigued by this man; I wanted to know more about him and almost had the urge to go and talk to him. His gait was odd, almost dancing its fluidity. He was walking quickly but didn't appear to be expending any energy. He looked straight ahead, his head held high in an almost regal manner. As he got closer, I could make out the object in his hand as a doctor's bag swinging lightly at his side. I still could see almost nothing of his shadowed face, but it surprised me that I would not recognize a doctor living near this area. My father was friendly with most of the more successful men in Chicago and doctors certainly fit into that category. Perhaps this man was new to town or was not a town doctor. Maybe he worked at the hospital and was not in my father's sphere of influence.

I looked away before the young doctor could catch me watching him. It was unlike me to be curious about strangers. Almost everyone that I could want to know my parents had introduced me to. I didn't usually think to go searching out new people. But this strange man caught my attention and I was fascinated by the differences that seemed so apparent to me in the fading light. Something about him seemed so different and peculiar. I looked up again as he passed closer to me and caught just a glimpse of his unusual eyes. There was nothing extraordinary about him, but all of the small nuances spoke of something other and made me wonder what story this stranger might have to tell.


	4. New Arrivals

The next four days were filled with errands, chores, and expectation. After obtaining her train tickets, Aunt Clara wired us to let us know that she and Edie would arrive just after lunchtime on Tuesday afternoon. Intermingled with all of the household preparations, my mother was furiously planning a garden party for Friday evening to welcome Aunt Clara and Edie to the area. Mother was inviting several of the young ladies in the area, but I was overjoyed to know that they were not being invited as promising matches for me; rather, my mother considered them potential companions for Edie.

Mrs. Scott graciously offered her services to my mother in these last days of preparations. My mother was extremely grateful to Mrs. Scott and Anna for their help. And I knew that without them, we wouldn't have gotten everything that needed to be done accomplished. And, even more than that, I was happy to have more time to talk to my friend. But I couldn't help but feel a bit put out by the way that Mrs. Scott was attempting to push her daughter further into our family. I felt bad for Anna because she was embarrassed by the way her mother was acting. But my mother didn't seem to be noticing anything other than the added help.

"Corrine, I know I keep saying it, but I couldn't do all this without you and Anna," my mother said at the end of Saturday's work. Mother had invited Mr. Scott over for dinner, having kept his wife and daughter all day at the house.

"And I keep telling _you_, Elizabeth, that it is really not an inconvenience. We consider you practically family," Mrs. Scott said, looking pointedly at Anna and me as we folded the linens my mother had laid out. Anna flushed, in anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell.

"Well, truly, the garden party on Friday will be the reward for all of this hard work. We'll all finally be able to relax and enjoy each other!"

They both laughed and began talking _again_ about all of the last minute details. Anna and I looked at each other knowingly and she just shook her head. Anna was not looking forward to this garden party and I felt somewhat guilty for being so giddy about it. For the first time, I was actually looking forward to being able to enjoy a social event hosted by my parents without the expectation of courting one of the girls.

Dinner was less formal than it was on most occasions that the Scotts came to dine, but Anna and I were still expected to sit quietly.

"I just don't understand the urgency," Mr. Scott said to my father. "Is your sister normally prone to fits of fancy?"

My father gave him a warning look that Mr. Scott ignored, but he quickly smiled at him.

"It is more my own uncertainties that necessitated the urgency. I would feel better to have my family close by in the case of any emergency."

Mother looked up at my father through her lashes. She said nothing, but her thanks were clearly spoken nonetheless.

"Well, I think it's all a bit ridiculous," Mr. Scott continued. "But whatever helps you sleep better, Edward."

My father smiled at him formally. I had seen that smile on his face a number of times before. It was a mask hiding his displeasure.

"Have you given much more thought to who you might invite?" Mrs. Scott asked, looking expectantly at my mother.

"Oh, just some of the families that we are all friendly with. I don't want to overwhelm the poor girl."

"Of course! Too many girls would just be a bit much for her. Best to keep it small," she gushed happily.

Mrs. Scott would have been pleased for Anna to be the only other girl invited. I shuddered to think of her reaction should Edie reject Anna's friendship. I knew my friend well enough to know that she would work hard to make Edie feel welcome and to please her mother. But I wondered if it would be enough. If her reaction to me was any indicator, Edie wasn't easily won over.

* * *

The morning of my cousin and aunt's arrival started earlier than most. My mother was up before the sun fluffing pillows, dusting and cooking away to make sure that my relatives' arrival would be seamless and pain free. Father had taken the day off of work to be home and available to pick my aunt and Edie up from the train station. I was beginning to get excited about the trip. Although we had purchased the car over two years ago, my father still considered it a luxury to take it anywhere. We only drove to places that we could not otherwise walk. It was always a treat for me to help my father fire up the Studebaker and ride with him through the streets.

After downing a fast and early lunch, my father and I walked out to get the car ready. I admired again the fine blue paneling of the sides and the sleek angles of the wheel rims. My father chuckled as I ran my fingers where the leather lipped over the sides of the doors. I couldn't help but smiling; the car always gave me a thrill of anticipation.

It always seemed so exciting to travel so much faster than our legs could ever carry us. I liked the feel of the wind in my hair and the way my body jostled around in the front seat as Father took the turns too quickly. It was a joke among us how fast he liked to drive. He was much too proper to mention it to anyone else, but when it was just the two of us out for a drive, he would shake the Studebaker as he pressed the pedal to the floor. Just after we purchased the car, he had taken me for a ride on one of the country roads and stalled the car trying to make it go faster. We laughed until both of our stomachs ached, unable for several minutes to get the car restarted.

"Would you like to sit in the driver's seat while I crank the engine?" my father asked casually.

My eyes lit up and I hopped into the car without a word.

"Do you remember the sequence?" my father asked.

"Yes," I said. "I think. First I need to turn the ignition, correct?"

My father nodded at me, lips quirked in humor. But I was beyond humor. My father had never let me help to start the engine before. I had been hoping for some time that he would allow me access to the car. Thus far, he saw it as a needless excess. Perhaps this was the beginning of his change of heart.

"Now I want to add the throttle, right?" I asked, already doing it as I spoke. I had watched this process with fascination from the moment that my father brought the car home. "I'm pulling the choke out, now, Father."

"Is it in neutral, son?" he asked, walking to the front of the car.

"Yes," I said, checking the gear shift.

He cranked the lever three times before the car fired and began thrumming underneath me. The sudden jolt was like a charge of energy. My father closed up the front of the car and walked around to the driver's side of the car looking at me expectantly. I turned to look at him, smiling at him in the hopes that he might offer to let me drive.

"Move over, Edward," he said, shaking his head.

"Yes, sir," I said dejectedly.

* * *

We arrived outside the train station just before one o'clock. According to the large time table in the center of the station we still had another half hour before their train arrived.

"Why don't we pick out some flowers for your aunt and cousin while we wait?" my father suggested.

"And for Mother?" I asked.

"Of course," he said, smiling. I knew that he wouldn't bring flowers home without picking some out specially for Mother.

"Now, what do you think is appropriate for your cousin, Edward?" he asked me when we found the flower stand.

I looked around at the piles of colorful blooms, opened my mouth to answer, and then snapped it shut in utter confusion. They all looked nice and smelled sweet, but I barely knew Edie. What would she find attractive? I turned to look at my father and flushed at his look of open amusement.

"I've been negligent in your education, son, if you don't know which flowers are appropriate!" he chuckled heartily. "We'll get pink carnations for your cousin and your aunt will like these," he said, picking up a full bunch of purple flowers, I wasn't sure of their name. "Ah, yes, and your mother's favorites," he said fondly. Sunflowers. I knew that she loved those; we had a patch of them in our backyard. Whenever Mother was concerned or sad about something, she would wander over to her sunflowers and their happy faces would make her smile.

Father paid for the flowers and then we went to find the depot where Edie and Aunt Clara would exit the train. We didn't have long to wait. I could see the steam from the engine as we walked over to the depot. My stomach knotted only slightly as I resolved myself to be the perfect gentleman.

The train puffed into the station and the steam whooshed around our legs. Immediately the platform was a bustle of activity as porters sprang from the train to begin unloading luggage and helping passengers find their destinations.

I saw them exit the train from the corner of my eye. Before they were able to arrange themselves for the public eye, I caught the fear rolling off of them as they faced this new city that would become home to them for some time. I was able to register pity for them in that moment. Thinking of how it would feel to leave everything here that we loved, I imagined how uncomfortable we would feel in a new city. Then, I watched as the change happened.

I saw it in my Aunt first. She was a striking woman, very similar in coloring to my father. Her hair was dark and pulled back severely. She wore a traveling hat with gauze that covered part of her face. Her dress was a deep blue fabric, cinched at the waist. Her shoulders, slumped as she faced the blur of activity on the platform, straightened to ramrod perfection in the face of the activity and she put a steadying hand on her daughter's shoulders. She looked around coldly and full of detachment at the scene spreading before her. I doubted anyone would have noticed the slight change from her initial expression.

Edie was both more dramatic and more subtle. It seemed natural the way her blue eyes widened in anticipation and trepidation. I could see the slight shudder that went through her as she followed the dirty form of one of the porters trundling luggage away from the train. She looked around her, eyes narrowing in calculation. She disliked the scene in front of her, that was clear from the way she angled her body away from the things in front of her. She spread her delicate hands on the light fabric of her green traveling dress and looked around expectantly for some way out of this unpleasantness. That was when her eyes narrowed and locked upon me.

My heart sank as I recognized the look of disdain on her eyes as she looked me over. Without even a chance to impress her with flowers or chivalry, she had written me off in that simple glance. I willed myself to smile at her and walk over with my father to offer them assistance exiting the train, but I felt cheated out of my second chance by her estimation of me.

"Clara!" my father exclaimed. "I'm so glad that you're finally here!"

He held out his hand to her as she stepped down the large steps and she stepped into his embrace.

"Edward," she said lowly, barely looking up at him. "It's so good of you to have us."

I reached up to my cousin who was waiting expectantly, lips turned down in displeasure.

"Hello, Edie," I said. "Was your journey pleasant?"

She huffed as she stepped lightly off of the train and looked down her nose at the traveling gloves that she was holding in her hand, stained with the muck of the train's railing.

"Edie," my Aunt Clara said shrilly. "Your cousin addressed you."

My mouth almost hung open in surprise as I turned to look at her. She was looking at me and my father with a warm smile, something I had never seen on her face. I began to realize not only the courage that it had taken her to come here, but the overwhelming fear as well.

"Edward," Edie said low and musically. "Thank you for your help. The train was fine."

Her mouth turned down at the last and she looked back at the iron and steel contraption behind us as if it had personally offended her in some way.

"Aunt Clara," I said, recovering from my earlier surprise. "It's so good to see you again. I hope that your accommodations were comfortable."

"Oh yes, Edward, dear," she said, taking my hand. I felt a small tremor in her grip. "Thank you so much for your concern."

"Clara, dear, these are for you," my father said, handing her the purple flowers.

"Oh! Irises!" she said with her hand over her chest. "Thank you so much!"

Her eyes filled with moisture and she smelled them and I wondered at the significance that might have been behind those purple flowers. My father's foot lightly tapped my own and I remembered the pink carnations in my left hand.

"Oh!" I said rather stupidly. "Edie, I nearly forgot! Welcome to Chicago. These are for you."

Mentally, I chastised myself for my blundering welcome. It sounded childish even as I was saying it and I could see her lips pursing together as I spoke and held the flowers out to her. I also noticed her mother's hand tightening like a vice on her shoulder. I wondered again at this exchange. My aunt had never been anything less than difficult and stiff with our family.

"The flowers are lovely," Edie said tightly.

"Shall we go and gather your belongings and be on our way?" my father said, reaching down to gather my aunt's carry on bag. My aunt nodded, looking around at the train one last time before we stepped away from the platform.

My aunt held my father's outstretched arm as we walked through the crowds to the luggage area where the porters were piling up the luggage they had removed from the train. My aunt pointed to three medium sized bags which my father and I easily carried out of the station. Before arriving, my father had folded down the middle seats and we were able to place the bags between the seats while my cousin and I were still comfortable in the back of the car. Once everyone was seated, my father went through the tedious process of starting up the car and we were on our way.

I looked out at the city as we drove in silence except for the loud chugging of the engine, trying to see it through new eyes. I knew that my aunt had grown up in Chicago, but from the time of her marriage to my uncle so many years ago, she had lived in the relatively small Hill section of Scranton. I remembered visiting them on several occasions when I was younger and being amazed at all of the gaily colored Victorian houses that dotted their neighborhood. Would Aunt Clara view this as a welcome homecoming or something less pleasant?

And there was Edie. Away from her mother's watchful gaze, she slumped in the seat next to me, looking down at the bags in front of us and ignoring the scenery passing by. It seemed unintentional but as she sat there, she ripped petals from the flowers, littering them over her lap. I took my cues from my father and tried to engage her in some quiet conversation, attempting to keep my voice down so that my aunt could not intervene should Edie choose not to speak back.

"The only time I've traveled by train for any length of time was to visit you a few years back. Was the food any good?"

She looked hard at me, trying to see through the façade that she assumed was in place to see what my reasons might be. I felt bad immediately that I had given her the impression of being manipulating or callous. I opened my eyes wide and tried to look as interested as I could in her answer. When she couldn't seem to find any subterfuge, she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"It was fine," she said. And then she muttered something under her breath that I couldn't hear.

"Sorry," I said, leaning closer. She immediately recoiled from me and I stopped mid breath. What could possibly be the matter with this girl? Was I really so ungentlemanly that she would feel the need to recoil from my presence? I could feel myself getting angrier. I leaned back in my seat and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "I just couldn't hear the last thing you said."

Anger and frustration seemed to roll off of her as she stared as me. "I said it was dirty," she said through tight lips.

"Oh," I said, floundering. "We've spent the last week cleaning and preparing your rooms," I added inanely. _Great_, I thought. She would think that we lived in filth when we weren't expecting company. Would I never be good at talking to people?

She smiled faintly and then went back to ripping petals from the flowers and staring off into space. I decided to give her these last moments of peace without having to work to cover her emotions. Soon enough she would be thrust into the spotlight at my house where her mother would expect her to be gracious and cordial to her aunt.

We pulled up to the house and my father turned off the ignition.

"Elizabeth will be just thrilled to see you," he said, turning to my aunt. "Edward and I will come back out for the bags as soon as we escort you in. Welcome home, sister."

"Thank you, brother," she said. Still, her reaction to my father and myself was shocking to me. I knew that I remembered my aunt being a haughty woman. What had changed in the space of two years? My father could see it too. I saw it in his reaction to her words and looks. He had been bracing himself for coldness and distance and he wasn't sure how to react to her acceptance and gratitude.

My mother was waiting in the foyer. I was pleased _not_ to see Mrs. Scott waiting with her. It had bothered me on the ride home, watching how uncomfortable Edie was, that perhaps Mrs. Scott would try to ingratiate herself to my aunt at their arrival. At least Edie would only have to face family in her discomfort. Perhaps a night of rest in this new house would make it seem more like home and she would feel easier in the morning.

"Clara!" Mother called as soon as we opened the door and held out her arms to her sister-in-law.

"Oh! Elizabeth!" Aunt Clara called in the same voice. "It's been too long!"

Mother didn't seem at all surprised at the greeting my aunt had given her. She scooped her into a welcoming hug and smoothed the back of her dress as she murmured more welcomes to her. Her eyes were already darting to my cousin who was lagging slightly behind my aunt, looking unsure and tentative.

"And Edie," my mother said, releasing my aunt and shaking her head. "You've grown into such a lovely young lady! Clara, it seems like just yesterday they were throwing dirt at each other in the back yard."

I cringed at the implication that I had ever thrown dirt at my cousin. How did my mother expect me to overcome my bad reputation if she kept bringing it up? My aunt only laughed at the memory of the two toddler cousins soiling their fine clothes, but I saw Edie's shoulders stiffen in either anger or indignation. I could guess at the emotion behind her stiffening. It was intolerable to be bombarded by stories of your own frailties. Unfortunately, it looked to get worse before it got better. Mother and my aunt seemed to be giddy as school girls.

I walked out with my father to retrieve the bags and he stopped by the side of the car, looking at me in a strange way.

"I'm very proud of you, son," he said.

"Father?' I asked, embarrassed immediately, but unsure why.

"You were very kind to your cousin today," he said. "This is a difficult transition for her. Your aunt seems to be handling it better than I would have dreamed possible, but your cousin--"

He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"Maybe she just misses her friends," I suggested. "I bet the garden party that mother had planned will be just the thing to thaw her out."

I winced at my casual tone. So much for being thoughtful and feeling. But my father patted me on the shoulder and smiled.

"Perhaps you're right," he said. "Don't be too hard on yourself if she doesn't take to you right away. I get the impression Edie is set on being unhappy for a while."

Dinner that night was enjoyable, aside from the obvious discomfort that my cousin was in. She seemed almost pained in her uneasiness. I wondered what could be troubling her so to make the transition so difficult for her.

After dinner, my mother and Aunt Clara retired to the kitchen to do dishes and catch up on the past two years. It pleased my father to no end that his wife and sister were so obviously enjoying each other's company. I glanced up at him as he entered his study and he raised his eyebrows at me, obviously expecting me to come in with him.

"I think I'll ask Edie if she'd care for a walk this evening. Would that be ok, Father?" I asked.

He smiled and cocked his head to the side, considering.

"You can try," he said. "It never hurts."

I wondered at that and raised my eyebrows at him to let him know. He chuckled and waved me out.

Edie was in the sitting room looking longingly at the piano when I found her. She started at my entrance and wiped at her face. I couldn't tell in the fading light, but it seemed as though she might have been crying.

"I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"It's ok," she said, her voice cracking. So she had been crying. "I can go if you want to be in here."

"No!" I said, too quickly. "Edie, I actually came to see if you'd like to take a walk. The weather is really quite nice for walking at night, and it's as good a time as any to see some of the local sights."

"Local sights?" she asked. "Like what?"

"Er," I hemmed. "Well, I could show you the general store. And possibly the Center Square. I like to sit there at night. It's rather peaceful."

"Edward," she said, her voice was tight and angry. "You don't need to be nice to me. I know you don't want me here. I don't want to be here either. I want to be home."

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression, Edie," I said, walking a little further into the room. "But I am glad that you and your mother came. Mother was very worried about the epidemic. It puts her mind at ease to have the family close."

"I didn't say your mother, did I?" she asked nastily and I recoiled from her anger. I didn't understand it at all.

"Edie," I said after a moment. "What did I do to make you so angry at me?"

She laughed bitterly. This was a side I had never seen of my cousin.

"Maybe we should go on that walk, cousin," she said then. I was no longer sure that was a good idea, but I turned and walked wordlessly with her to tell her mother where we were going. Mother smiled at me when we entered, thrilled that I was making such an effort. In the light of the kitchen, I couldn't see a trace of Edie's tears. My stomach was knotted again as we walked out the front door in anticipation of what Edie might say. She began as soon as we turned the corner away from the house.

"Have you ever been in love, Edward?" she asked.

I stopped mid-stride.

"Excuse me?" I asked uncomfortably. _My mother wouldn't set my own cousin on me already? Would she?_

"In love? Have you ever been in love?" she asked, impatient now.

"Er, no. Why do you ask?"

"Because I am in love. And this silly flu is keeping me away from the boy I love. I should be home now, getting ready for him to ask permission to court me, not in this filthy city playing family house with people I barely know. He's rich and handsome and I just know that he wanted to court me, but now--now he'll probably find someone else to court. Why would he wait for me to come back?"

Tears were coming down her cheeks now and I felt completely helpless.

"Does Aunt Clara know?" I asked.

"Of course," she said testily. "But she doesn't care. She's just so sure that we'll be safer here in Chicago than we would have been back home. As soon as Uncle Edward's wire came, she started packing. It was hopeless! I tried to reason with her, but she didn't want to hear anything from me."

She was crying in earnest now and I could do nothing but walk silently by her side. I knew the feeling of wanting something desperately, but Edie didn't sound like some of the boys I knew who said they were in love. She sounded like she was more disappointed at losing the prospect of a wealthy suitor than at losing the actual boy. I felt bad immediately for trivializing her feelings. I had no right to do such things. I didn't know how important he was to her.

"I don't expect you to do anything. I'm not expecting you to be my friend. I just want you to understand why I hate it so much here," she said.

We walked around the Center Square twice, in silence, while Edie cried. I felt useless the entire time and I knew she must hate me for not knowing what to say. Saying you didn't want someone to help you was one thing; crying helplessly in front of your cousin while he did nothing was quite another. I wondered about my mother's idea for the garden party now. I wondered how difficult it would be for Edie, knowing now that she was heart broken. I decided that since my mother had no intention of inviting potential suitors for her, it wouldn't be too difficult for Edie. Maybe the addition of some other girls to interact with _would_ make a difference to her and she wouldn't feel so lonely and wronged. If her feelings for this unnamed boy in Scranton were anything like my desire to be a soldier, however, I doubted that it would sway her from her feelings. But we could hope. If she was right and he would find someone else, wouldn't that be the better solution?

When we got back to house, Mother and Aunt Clara had table clothes littered on the kitchen table and were discussing things to serve at the party. She overheard them before they even realized we were home. Edie froze and then turned to me.

"You knew about this?" she hissed.

"I--" I looked around for something to grasp. "I--yes. I knew."

She stared at me long and cold. Any chance at friendship washed away in the venomous glance that she was bathing me in. She turned on her heel and stormed up the steps away from me.

"Sorry?" I said quietly to her retreating form. I was pretty sure I couldn't do anything right when it came to my cousin.

**_A/N: Ah, awkward teenage Edward. Isn't it a good thing he has about 100 years to get all smooth and debonaire for Bella? lol. This may seem like a bit of family fluff, but there are some important bits in this chapter. Thank you so much for all of the reviews and favorites. You guys rock my world. :) I wanted to answer some of the reviews real quick. Yes, my very quick readers, that was Carlisle. I know it's not exactly canon to have them meet prior to Edward's change, but it's just too tempting to write about what Edward thinks of Carlisle while he's human and not fevered. Carlisle will make one more appearance before the big change and in that appearance, they actually interact. ;) Also, in response to a couple of reviews and PMs, it was not my intention to imply that Clara and Edie bring the flu bug with them to Chicago. Elizabeth was truly acting early to the threat and bringing them to Chicago. According to my research, Chicago doesn't have its first case until the beginning of September and then the virus spreads like wildfire through the city. She, unfortunately, couldn't have known that she was actually bringing them into the hot bed of the disease. Their coming was a way for me to explore the family relationships a bit more deeply._**

**_If you are interested in seeing pictures of the Masen family car or drawings of what Clara and Edie's travel clothes might have looked like, check out my profile. I'll post links there of those pics. :) Reviews are awesome, but you totally knew that. :) ~Jen_**


	5. Garden Party

When Edie stormed to her room upon our arrival back at the house, my mother looked immediately to me for some explanation. I looked desperately between my mother and aunt for some way out and found nothing but questions and disappointment. My aunt's face was touched with anger as well. Obviously they assumed that my cousin and I had fought while on our walk. Before I could get even more weighed down in my mother's disappointment, I latched onto the least offensive reason for Edie's anger: the surprise of the party.

"Edie overheard you talking about the party and she became upset when we got home that I hadn't mentioned anything about it," I said, darting my eyes between my mother and aunt. When my mother exhaled and seemed to relax a bit, I continued. "I think perhaps she doesn't like surprises. I'm sorry, Aunt Clara. I didn't know."

"Of course, you have nothing to apologize for Edward," she said, too quickly. Her face still wore the faintest touches of the unguarded anger that she had shown when we arrived home. I wondered briefly whether she was angry at me or my cousin. "Girls will be girls, dear. She'll be excited about the party in the morning. Never fear."

I looked at Mother and she nodded in agreement. I shrugged and said that I would like to be excused to the study to read. They both agreed readily. I was thankful beyond measure not to be subjected to a further study of the female mind. The slight glimpse I had gotten tonight was baffling enough for one evening. My father and I read companionably for the rest of the evening and I went to bed hoping that Edie would, indeed, wake up excited about the party.

* * *

Not only did Edie not wake up thrilled with the prospect of the coming party, she still refused to speak with me. And to make matters worse, with the coming morning I had noticed a change in my aunt's demeanor as well.

Father returned to work that morning and requested that I stay home to help Mother with any preparations that might be needed instead of walking with him as was my custom. I readily agreed, eager to step into the role that he had entrusted me with before my aunt's arrival.

"I'll stop by the Kellys' on my way home and invite them for tomorrow. Is there anywhere else that you would like me to stop, dear?" Father asked Mother on the way out the door.

"Edward and I will stop next door at the Kirkbrides' to inquire with them this afternoon and Corrine is dropping by the Stallingworths' house as well. That completes the guest list," Mother said.

"Only three families?" My aunt asked shrilly and we all turned to her. Her face looked more than shocked; it was disappointed. But she recovered her features fully before continuing. "I had just imagined with the menu that you had picked out that you would be expecting more people, Elizabeth dear."

My father laughed heartily. "My Liz always enjoys feeding her guests to the point of explosion, Clara," he said fondly. "We wanted to keep the party small so as not to overwhelm you and Edie. There will be four families, including the Scotts."

My aunt's mouth formed into a tight-lipped smile. "But of course! How thoughtful of you."

Her face was working itself into the smile that seemed to come so naturally yesterday, but I realized almost immediately that the smile in place now was an artifice. There was something lurking below the surface here that I did not understand. My mother and father seemed to be at ease with my aunt's reaction, but it left me uneasy and mistrustful. My father wished me a good day and was off to start his day.

We spent most of the day in and out of the house, setting up what the wind could not knock down before tomorrow night. Most of my morning was spent moving tables from the basement to the back yard. The July heat was baking in our open back yard and I was grateful for my mother's cold lemonade when I had finished setting up the remainder of the chairs around the yard.

Mother sat herself down in one of the chairs and wiped the perspiration off of her forehead, sipping along with me.

"The yard is coming along, at least," I said, after finishing my glass and refilling it.

"Yes," my mother said, sighing. "It should be a lovely party--." She trailed off, looking at her hands that were folded in her lap.

"Mother?" I asked her. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh!" she remarked, looking up at me startled. "Of course, dear. I'm just a bit tired from all of the work. And, I guess, I am a bit worried about your cousin. She still hasn't come out of her room. Aunt Clara brought her some breakfast this morning, but said she wouldn't touch it."

I looked down and away, knowing where my mother was headed with this and not liking her direction at all.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Edward?" she asked, touching my hand lightly. I could hear the smile in her voice as she asked. My mother knew that I disliked hiding things from her.

I looked up at her, glancing around the yard to ensure that we were alone.

"Edie is upset because she left someone behind in Scranton that she would rather not have left," I said, knowing that my words weren't exactly clear but not feeling comfortable revealing all of Edie's secrets either.

"Ah," my mother said. "And did this someone have a name, perhaps?"

"She didn't say," I said, truthfully.

"Was this someone a boy, perhaps?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying unsuccessfully to gauge how much my aunt had already told her and how much my mother just innately knew.

"Perhaps," I allowed warily. "Why do you ask?"

She chuckled at me.

"With a girl for a best friend, Edward, I would think you would know more about girls!" She continued to laugh at me until I could feel my lips beginning to twitch into an answering smile. "Edie's reaction over the party, her sullen behavior since she arrived . . . clearly, the girl is heart broken."

"Mother," I said, after the last of her chuckles had died away. "She didn't seem very heart broken to me. She just seemed angry."

"She's very young, Edward," my mother replied, patting my hand. "In her mind, there is probably very little difference. She's angry at having her plans ruined. She doesn't want us interfering in her plans and she sees this party as an interference. I think that Clara may have gone to talk to her now, perhaps to try to reason with her--"

I cocked my head to the side as my mother trailed off again. Something was bothering my mother about my aunt's reaction to Edie's anger.

"In any case," she said, shaking her head and standing. "We need to get over to the Kirkbride's house. We need to invite them for tomorrow evening."

Our neighbors, the Kirkbrides, were long time friends of our family. Their oldest daughter, Helen, and I used to play in each other's backyards often when we were children. I vaguely remember Edie playing with us on one of her visits, although I couldn't remember whether Helen and she had gotten along. But, given Helen's sweet and shy demeanor, I would doubt that she had made much of an impression on my cousin.

We knocked on the door and were met by Helen herself, staring wide-eyed at us.

"Helen, dear!" Mother began immediately. "Is your mother in? I had a question for her if she is around."

We heard Mrs. Kirkbride walking quickly from the other room.

"Is that Mrs. Masen that I hear?" she called genially. "Why Elizabeth and Edward," she said as she came around the corner. "What a pleasant surprise! Can I offer you some tea?"

"Oh, that is very kind," my mother said. "But we just stopped by quickly to invite you to our garden party tomorrow evening. My husband's sister and her daughter have come to stay with us for a while and we're welcoming them by inviting some of our friends. We'd be so happy if you and your family could attend."

"How very thoughtful of you, Elizabeth. We'd be happy to attend, wouldn't we Helen?"

I smiled at Helen who nodded and then immediately looked at the floor, saying nothing. I immediately felt bad for the girl, knowing that she wouldn't fit in with my cousin. I was glad that Anna was going to be in attendance. Anna was a feeling girl; she would take care of her.

"That sounds just lovely," Mrs. Kirkbride said. "Can we bring anything?"

"No, no, don't be silly, Freda. Everything is already prepared. Just the presence of you and your lovely family is all that we require."

"Again, thank you so much for thinking of us. What time would you like us to arrive?"

"Dinner will be served at 6:30," Mother replied.

"Wonderful. We will look forward to seeing you then," she said, looking at her silent daughter.

"Thank you, Mrs. Masen," Helen whispered, turning an even deeper shade of red. "Edward."

"You're quite welcome," Mother replied.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening, Helen," I said cordially and watched as she stared even more intently at her feet.

"Yes, thank you," she mumbled, not returning my gaze.

We left and my mother started chuckling as we walked back to our house. She put her hand on my arm to steady herself.

"What is it, Mother? What's so funny?" I asked, unsure what had struck her so.

"Oh," she said, waving me off. "It's nothing dear. Don't trouble yourself. I'm just very proud of you, son," she said, giggling more into her hand.

"Oh," I said, more confused than before. I went back over the exchange at the Kirkbride house and couldn't find anything that I did special or different. I shook my head as we walked down the small pathway to our back yard, assuming that I wouldn't be privy to this particular piece of mirth.

* * *

Edie softened slightly throughout the day on Thursday, finally coming down to join us for dinner that night; although she still wouldn't look at or speak to me. We sat in near silence for the entire dinner and I immediately retreated with my father to his study for a few games of chess and some conversation before dinner.

"Were the Kellys available for tomorrow?" I asked my father when we were in his study.

"Yes," he said. "They were quite pleased to be coming. Mrs. Kelly was quite sure that the girls would be very happy to see both you and Edie."

"I had forgotten the Kellys more than one daughter," I said. I had only met their daughter, Lillian, on a few occasions.

"They have two daughters; although, one is younger than you and closer to Edie's age," he explained. "Both Lillian and Grace will be in attendance."

I made my first move after we set up the chess board. Father and I had found that conversations came to us more naturally while involved in the intricacies of the game. We spoke for the rest of the evening about the trivialities of the coming day, my father subtly trying to convince me that this would be a perfect opportunity to fulfill my mother's wish for me to find a partner.

When we awoke the next morning, my mother was a flutter in the kitchen trying to prepare everything that was needed for the party. I entered the kitchen and was surprised to see my aunt sitting easily at the table sipping coffee as my mother worked.

"Oh, Edward," Mother said, relieved. "I have a list. I need you to run to the market for me right after breakfast."

"Of course, Mother," I said.

I ate my oatmeal as quickly as I could and left immediately for the store. It bothered me more than it probably should have that my aunt had shown no signs of getting up to help. I knew that my mother would expect no help, but I had thought that Aunt Clara would offer at the least.

The rest of the day was much the same. Mother never spoke a word of reproach, but as she fluttered to and fro around the kitchen and into the back yard, I couldn't help but grow more resentful of my aunt's lack of enthusiasm. She spent most of the morning with Edie, picking out clothes and fixing her hair. I was happy to note that Edie seemed to be more excited about the party now that it was only hours away. Perhaps her mother had spoken to her and now she knew that there would only be young girls there and no suitors to vie for her affections.

By six o'clock, the house was in perfect order and the food had been prepared. All that was left was to get ready for the party. I slipped into my new dark blue suit. My mother had picked out a rust colored tie to go with the ensemble, declaring that it "brought out the color of my hair." I had rolled my eyes at her, but put it on to humor her. Father hadn't arrived home from work yet, but he had rung earlier in the day to say that he would be coming from the hospital where he had a client to confer with. He would arrive as early as he could.

The small string quartet that my mother had employed was playing one of my favorite pieces, Pachelbel's Canon in D, as I walked into the back yard. My mother had finished laying out the appetizers and refreshments and was upstairs tending to her hair and dress at the moment. I readied myself to greet our guests as they arrived. I noticed Aunt Clara and Edie had already set themselves up beyond the refreshment table and seemed to be waiting there for the guests. Anna and her family were the first to arrive.

"Hello, Edward," Mr. Scott said when he saw me.

I held out my hand to him. "Welcome, Mr. Scott. Thank you for coming."

"Of course," he said, and walked over to where my mother had laid out the rice croquettes, cheese and crackers. My mother exited the house then, dressed in a flowing purple summer dress that looked lovely amid the other, summery colors around the back yard. She seemed to blend in with her surroundings, but not fade away. She looked quite beautiful and I told her so when she came to my side. She smiled at me and touched my cheek fondly.

"And the tie looks sensational, Edward," she said, winking.

I chuckled at her and straightened it dramatically. Mother took over welcoming the guests and I mingled among the crowd, comparing the guests with my cousin, trying to decide who would end up catching her fancy. It was interesting to see the differences in the way that my mother had dressed for the occasion and the way my aunt had dressed herself and her daughter.

Clara had arrayed herself in a light yellow, belted dress that was quite flattering but seemed to stand out, even next to the bright sun flowers. She had picked out a much less formal dress for Edie, but no less striking. Summery and light, Edie's dress was cream colored and tied with a navy blue piping. Her mother had obviously spent much time fixing her curls on top of her head in the popular "Gibson" style. She looked much older than she was and I wondered again just how broken hearted she really was. She seemed to me to be looking to catch the eye of someone new.

Anna sidled up to me.

"So there she is," she whispered.

"Oh, Anna, don't be so dramatic," I chastised her. "She's just my cousin."

"Are you sure she's younger than you?" she asked, openly gawking at her.

I positioned myself between the two of them to prevent Edie from taking offense at Anna's appraisal of her dress.

"Yes, she's two years younger than me," I said through my teeth. "And you can stop gaping. She can probably see you, you know."

She audibly shut her mouth.

"Would you like me to introduce you?" I asked, smirking.

"No," she said, putting her hand through my outstretched arm. "Not really. But I guess we ought to get this over with."

"Indeed," I smiled.

We walked across the yard to where my cousin and aunt seemed to be waiting for people. I found it slightly odd that they waited for people to come to them. My mother never did that when new people came to our house; she immediately welcomed them with open arms. But, perhaps they felt uncomfortable welcoming people to a house that wasn't their own.

"Aunt Clara," I said as we approached them. "Edie. May I introduce you to Anna Scott? Anna, this is my aunt, Clara Boyer and her daughter, my cousin, Edie."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Boyer," Anna said, curtseying slightly. "Edie. I'm so glad to finally make your acquaintance."

"Charmed," Aunt Clara said, looking pointedly at where Anna's hand rested on my arm. I realized too late what assumption she would make. "And Edward, you hadn't told us that you were courting anyone," she chided me.

"Well," I said, pausing only slightly. "Anna's family has been friends with ours for many years now. Father and Mr. Scott are both lawyers in town and we regularly have dinner as a family. We are not courting, but she is a very close family friend. We had hoped that she and Edie would find each other's company agreeable."

Aunt Clara smirked at me and nodded slightly. I was struck again at the difference in her smile and demeanor from the other day. Nothing had seemed to upset her, and yet she was clearly acting differently towards me and my family.

"I see," she said, lingering over the words. "Well, how nice for you, dear, to have such close ties with my brother's family."

My brows tightened at her tone; she seemed to be implying that Anna was profiting in some way by associating with my family. I didn't understand that as I had always seen our families as equal.

"Yes," I said. "Well, Anna's family was very helpful in getting this affair together. Her mother was over several days in a row helping Mother to ready your rooms and plan the party this evening."

"How nice of her," my aunt said. Something in her tone had made Anna blush.

"Well, Edie," Anna said, recovering herself. "I'd be happy to show you around town once you and your mother get settled. I've lived in Chicago all of my life and am familiar with the types of things that you may need during your stay."

"Oh," Edie said. "You don't have to do that. I'm sure my mother can show me around."

Edie looked past Anna as she said this, to the other girls that were arriving.

"Well," Anna said, frowning slightly. It was clear to me that although Anna didn't relish the idea of a friendship with Edie, she felt quite put out with the dismissal she had just received. "If you need anything, I'll be glad to be of assistance."

We turned and I walked Anna over closer to the house.

"That insufferable wench!" she hissed when we were far enough away. "How dare she imply that I use your family for social advancement! I would never--"

"Anna," I said quietly, reminding her to be quiet. "None of us think that of you."

She looked at me, her brow creased and her face red. I realized how upset the comment made her and wondered if it was the first time she had heard it. I knew that people talked about our friendship, but I had always assumed that it was in reference to our strange friendship, not our social status.

"You're right," she said, smoothing her dress. "She was just trying to rile me. I'm better than that. I'm fine." She was breathing deeply and she seemed to be calming down. She stared across the yard and her fingers tightened on the cotton of her summer dress as she looked again at my aunt and cousin.

Looking at them beyond the refreshment table, they looked to be holding court. They were standing facing the place where our side walkway emptied into the back yard. They were poised to see anyone who entered first and it was clear that they were set up to be well seen.

"Oh, Gracie and Lilly are here. I'm going to go over and greet them," Anna said. She gave my arm a slight squeeze as she walked away. I looked again at my aunt and cousin.

The Stallingworth family had arrived while Anna and I were speaking with Aunt Clara. They were engaged now speaking with Edie and I was interested to see the interaction between Edie and Ruth. Ruth was one of the many girls that my parents had brought over repeatedly trying to interest me. She was also one of my least favorite. She was cloying and fake in her interactions. She spoke frequently about things she had heard about other people, but much less often about herself or the things she had done. I always got the impression when we spoke that she was looking for her next story to pass along. Unsurprisingly, she and Edie seemed to be happily engaged in talking behind their handkerchiefs.

Anna had gone over to speak with Lillian and Grace. The younger girl, Grace, seemed uninterested in what Anna was saying and was looking longingly over at Ruth and Edie. I noticed that although Lilly spoke cordially with Anna, she, too, was interested with the goings on around Edie and Aunt Clara. They walked away after a very short time and I noticed that the four girls formed a tight circle behind the refreshments, whispering behind their hands and darting glances around the party.

Helen and her family had arrived at some point, but I hadn't noticed their arrival. They were standing quietly in the corner where my mother was engaged in conversation with Mrs. Kirkbride. As I looked over, I caught Helen darting her eyes away from me, wide-eyed again. I wondered what she was so frightened by here, then guessed that the throng of girls crowded in the corner of the party couldn't have eased her shyness.

I spent dinner eating with Mr. Kirkbride and Mr. Scott, sitting in for my father who was still running late at the hospital. I was happy to see that Anna had sat down with Helen and was trying to draw her into a conversation. It didn't escape my notice the way that Edie and Grace had tittered behind their handkerchiefs when a slice of pear had slipped off of Helen's fork and onto the ground, causing a deep blush to stain her cheeks. Anna completely ignored the faux pas, of course, continuing to talk as if nothing had happened.

After dinner, the fiddlers picked up the pace of the music and several of the adults began to dance. My mother was looking pointedly at me, expecting me to dance with some of the young ladies. I sighed, realizing that I was incorrect in thinking that I was going to be off the hook on this evening. It seemed tonight would be worse than most nights, being the only young man in attendance. I would have to make the rounds with all of the young ladies._ Well_, I reasoned, _if I was going to have to dance with them all, I might as well start with Helen. She seems the most in need of some positive attention_. I thought I noticed my mother smile slightly at my choice. It seemed that my cousin and her new found friends hadn't escaped her notice, either.

"Excuse me, Helen," I said quietly. Still, I noticed her jump slightly.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Edward. Hello."

"I was just wondering if you would care to dance?" I held out my hand and smiled gently at her. She seemed so shy and frightened. I didn't want her to feel scared of me, but she blushed even harder.

"Thank you," she barely whispered, and took my hand.

We stepped into the middle of the yard and I twirled her around gently, making sure to make eye contact with my cousin at least once. I wanted to be sure that _this_ didn't escape _her_ notice.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said, a bit more forcefully. "Your friend Anna is very nice. Is she in your year?"

"Yes," I said. "What year are you in?" I knew that we went to the same school, but I couldn't place how old she was.

"Just the year below," she said. "I heard about Anna applying to Vassar, though."

"Yes," I said, and smiled. "Not many people have missed that, have they?"

"No," she said and laughed slightly. "Are you . . . courting her?" She asked me timidly; she seemed unsure of whether she should ask or how I would take the question. I smiled at her, not wanting to upset her.

"No. Anna and I are very good friends, but we are not romantically involved."

She nodded her head and I noticed the faintest hint of a smile touch her lips. It was the first one I had seen all night.

We finished the song and when the photographer that my mother had hired to document the party came around, we smiled stiffly for the camera. I thanked her for the dance and led her back to the table she had been sharing with Anna. I noticed that Helen's smile had only grown since we left the center of the yard; she was practically glowing. Her mother was looking at her with a look of mingled pride and humor that reminded me very much of my own mother's look this afternoon.

Anna stuck her tongue out at me behind Helen's back and I was almost tempted to make her dance with me, knowing that she disliked dancing quite a bit. But at that moment, I noticed my father walking into the back yard with someone trailing behind him. I looked quickly around the yard to see if anyone had left or was missing, but couldn't see anyone missing. I looked back to my father and finally placed the man walking behind him; it was the young doctor I had seen in the town square just before my relatives had arrived.

Father walked right over to me with the man walking right in step with him. He was even more striking than I had remembered him. All around me, voices were stopping mid-sentence to stare at this new arrival. Curious glances turned into open admiration.

"Edward!" my father called to me. "Son, I want you meet a new friend that I made at the hospital this evening. Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I'd like to introduce you to my son, Edward."

**A/N: I'm such a tease. I'm sorry. They will talk next chapter, I promise. I wanted it to be all one chapter, but frankly it just got to be too long. Besides, I gotta keeping ya coming back for more. ;-) Your reviews are the highlights of my day. Seriously. Ask my kids. They know them by heart. So, I want to give some major recognition for the idea for this chapter to my amazing Beta, Emerald Star73. She has a fantastic post-Breaking Dawn story entitled High Noon in which Edward and Bella visit Edward's childhood home and hear a story about a girl that Edward danced with while he was human. We both thought it would be cool to hear the story from Edward's POV. Hence, this chapter. Please check out her story. It is really wonderful. She is listed in my favorite author's page. Also, I put up some new links on my page including what I imagine Edward's house might look like and some other detail oriented stuff . . . just cause I go nuts for that stuff. :) So, make Edward happy and keep those reviews coming! They are doing wonders for his blossoming self-esteem. :) ~Jen**


	6. Conversations

"Dr. Cullen," I said, reaching out my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so glad that you could accompany Father home."

I noted that the young doctor took his hand out of his pocket before he grasped my hand in his. In the heat of this summer night, I would have expected his hand to be clammy and warm; instead, it was cold and rock hard. My face must have betrayed my surprise, because before Dr. Cullen had even greeted me, he pulled his hand back and returned it to his pocket.

"Edward," he said in a soft voice. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Your father has already told me so much about you."

I felt myself blushing as I wondered just which stories my father would have felt appropriate for the young doctor's amusement.

"Can I offer you some refreshment?" I asked, trying to deflect the focus of the conversation, but Dr. Cullen shook his head quickly.

"You'll have to excuse me, Edward. Working at the hospital at all hours of the day and night has wreaked havoc upon my diet. I keep nothing close to a normal eating schedule, I'm afraid." He said the last with a hint of a wry smile and I wondered what private joke he was musing on.

"We understand, Carlisle," my father said jovially. "Edward, I have to greet our guests. Would you mind introducing Dr. Cullen to your mother for me?"

"Of course not, Father," I said and he was gone. I was left staring at Dr. Cullen feeling a bit tongue tied. He was so different than any other person I had ever encountered, but I couldn't place what was off about him. "Mother is over with my aunt and cousin. If you'd follow me?"

"Certainly, Edward," he said. "Lead the way."

As we walked, I felt our already silent guests arrange themselves so that they could view Dr. Cullen more easily. I was uncomfortably aware of every woman's eye following us as we made our way to my mother and aunt. They regarded him with a sort of intense awe and pleasure that I had never witnessed before. It was different from the way that boys my age might gawk at a pretty girl on the street. These women looked at Dr. Cullen like he might be some kind of deity or at least an incarnation of some favorite fairytale. They viewed him greedily and I was embarrassed for him as they continued their open-mouthed appraisal of him.

I admit that he was interesting to me, and not the least of it was his appearance. He was so different from anyone whom I had ever seen before. His eyes, that strange color that I had noted in the park, were even more striking up close. They were very nearly amber in color; I had never seen their like before. His build was muscular and he seemed to be rather strong, but not anything out of the ordinary. But the guests seemed drawn to him, as if they wanted to get closer to this man and understand him better.

"Excuse me, Mother, Aunt Clara," I said, when we arrived at where my Aunt and Edie had been receiving visitors. "Father asked me to introduce a new friend from the hospital to you, Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Dr. Cullen, this is my mother, Elizabeth Masen, my aunt, Clara Boyer, and her daughter, my cousin, Miss Edie Boyer."

"Ladies, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance," Dr. Cullen said, nodding to each as they curtseyed their hello. I noticed the throng of girls who had surrounded Edie after dinner titter in their handkerchiefs as Dr. Cullen glanced their way. I envied his poise to be able to avoid blushing under such close scrutiny. It was something that plagued me in my dealings with the opposite sex.

"Dr. Cullen," my mother said, looking carefully at him. "It was so kind of you to accompany my husband to our home. Might I ask how you made his acquaintance?"

My mother regarded Dr. Cullen differently than the rest of the gathered guests, most of whom had begun eating again, but still stole furtive glances at him out of the corners of their eyes. Her eyes were curious and wary at this newcomer. It was odd, for my mother was a most genial and accepting person. I wondered if the strangeness that I had perceived might have been contributing to my mother's wariness. If so, Aunt Clara and Edie were suffering from no such misgivings. They were openly enamored with the young doctor and I winced inwardly at what plans the two might be hatching.

"But of course," he smiled easily. "Your husband is representing a young burn patient who I am currently treating. The authorities have charged the young man with arson, but it is your husband's belief as well as my own that the young man is innocent of these charges. He and I discussed the case at great length this evening and, having gotten along so well, I accepted his gracious offer to accompany him back here to meet his lovely family."

"How long have you been in the area, Dr. Cullen?" Aunt Clara asked, looking up at him through her lashes. "You see, my daughter and I just moved to Chicago from Scranton and it's always nice to meet other newcomers."

"Oh, I've been in Chicago for a few years now," Dr. Cullen replied cordially. "I tend to move around to different hospitals that have need of doctors. I'm nearing the end of my stay here in Chicago, actually. It is my intention to move on to Wisconsin some time in the fall."

"Oh, how sad," my aunt said, pouting. I had to look again to check and see that she was, in fact, pouting. "But we've just met you and you'll be leaving town."

"Well," he said. "I'm looking forward to enjoying your company for the rest of this evening."

"Indeed," my mother said, cocking her head to the side. "Edward, why don't you show Dr. Cullen to one of the tables so that he can rest. I'm sure that he has had a long day at the hospital. I'll just fetch you some of my lemonade."

"Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Masen," Dr. Cullen replied softly. " I was telling Edward earlier about how my work schedule has ruined my eating patterns. I'm not thirsty in the least."

"Hmm," mother replied. "I see. Well, sit and chat with Edward. He has always been fascinated with the sciences. I'm sure that you will have a lot in common."

As we walked over to the empty table, my mind kept wandering back to my mother's reaction to Dr. Cullen. It was so different from everyone else's reaction. She seemed charmed by him, certainly. She even seemed happy that Father had brought him here. But something about her demeanor told me that she was mistrustful about something that she had seen. And for the life of me I couldn't place anything in the open face of this young doctor that would lead me to suspect any trickery or deception on his part. Rather, I saw honesty and openness there. It was true that his appearance was unsettling, but I attributed that more to the stares of those around me than anything unnatural. But my mother's disconcerting reaction made me guarded and cautious, as though I should be looking out for something.

* * *

Dr. Cullen and I had been talking for nearly two hours now, but his work was fascinating. We talked briefly about his patient, my father's client, but he could only give me a small, clinical history. Because the authorities were involved, he couldn't divulge much about the man's situation. It was clear to me, however, from the few sentences that he spoke about the man that he was thoroughly convinced of the man's innocence.

He reminded me a lot of Father when he spoke of his patients. My father often couldn't speak specifically about the clients he represented, but he could talk generally about the cases that he worked on. And always when he was talking about his cases, he was filled with a sense of justice that seemed to shine out of him. It always made me very proud of him; now I saw that same sense of urgency for justice in Dr. Cullen's eyes and features. I could easily see why he had chosen the medical profession. He saw it as his mission to protect those in his care.

"Tell me more about Pasteur's germ theory and how it relates to public health," I said, leaning forward in my eagerness. I wanted to know so much more. He chuckled at my enthusiasm and, as he paused, I realized that most of the guests had already left. Only Anna and her mother remained to help clean up as well as the Kelly girls, whose parents were talking animatedly with my aunt while the girls clustered around Edie talking quickly and quietly behind their hands.

"It's very simple, Edward," he said patiently. "Pasteur has proven beyond a doubt that germs are able to grow in warm, wet places. Our mouths, hands, and open wounds are perfect breeding grounds for these diseases. The most basic hygiene will help to protect the population from massive amounts of infection."

I nodded my head, involuntarily thinking back to his cold, marble handshake.

"Aren't you two tired of each other yet?" my father strolled over with a large smile on his face.

I felt my face flush at having monopolized our guest so thoroughly throughout the evening, but Dr. Cullen just chuckled and shook his head.

"Your boy is very bright and quizzical, Edward," he said. "He humors me by letting me rattle on and on about medicine."

"I doubt that very highly," my father said, smiling. "I know Edward quite well and I can tell you that he has enjoyed your discussion thoroughly. I can tell that we will be investing in several medical volumes in the near future."

"Indeed," I said eagerly, for I didn't want Dr. Cullen to think that I had been bored. "It's so fascinating to hear all of the new things that you are working on at the hospital."

"Well, I'm delighted to have had the opportunity to discuss this with you, Edward," Dr. Cullen said. "I have several books that I might be able to loan you, should you truly be interested in learning more."

"Very much, sir," I said, and then looked down. "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother to you for me to borrow them."

"Not at all," he said. "I have a rather extensive library and am more than happy to extend its use to such an eager student. I'll bring a few books to the hospital so that the next time your father visits he can pick them up."

"Oh, well thank you, sir," I said, sounding more disappointed than I had intended to. I had rather looked forward to the opportunity to speak with Dr. Cullen again.

"Well, Dr. Cullen," an annoyed voice said from my left shoulder. "It seems that almost all of the guests have left and we haven't had hardly a moment to speak with you." I looked up to see Aunt Clara's pouting face looking expectantly at Dr. Cullen. Again, I felt the flush rising on my neck at having been the cause of her disappointment.

"I was just speaking with your nephew about some of the latest advances in medicine," Dr. Cullen replied. "You know Edward, you would make a fine doctor yourself, should you choose that route."

I blushed even harder at his praise, but then my aunt gave me even further reason to blush.

"Oh, don't be silly Dr. Cullen," my aunt cawed. "Edward couldn't possibly give up his only dream of becoming a solider, could you Edward? Oh, don't tell me that you didn't tell the good doctor of your plans to enlist at the first chance you get? Everyone knows, Dr. Cullen, that Edward has already chosen his course."

My face fell as I watched Dr. Cullen's face crumple at the word soldier. He seemed _disappointed_ in my chosen path. Did he think it a less worthy profession than the medical field? I was slightly ashamed of myself that his disapproval at my choice affected me so when my parents hadn't been able to sway me in all of their months of trying.

"Now, now, Clara," my father was saying. "Edward could certainly pursue his dream of soldiering while still pursuing an interest in medicine. The army is certainly in need of fine doctors to tend to those who are in need."

I hadn't thought of that option and I noticed how Dr. Cullen's face seemed to brighten at the thought of military surgery as an option for my future career. He noticed the way my face followed his expression and he turned to me, shaking his head slightly.

"It isn't that I think of soldiering as a poor choice, Edward," he said lowly. "I disdain the loss of human life for any reason, especially vibrant, bright, young men such as yourself. So often we see our soldiers return home either permanently injured or not at all. I know that we have just met, but it would pain me to know that you could suffer that fate."

I could see that he was telling the truth. The thought of my demise was painful to him. I wondered at that. Certainly, the young doctor had captured my imagination with his amazing stories of discovery and learning as well as his engaging personality, but what had drawn him to me? I was nothing more than a boy, average and ordinary. I was shocked that he would seem so concerned with my future, but glad nonetheless to have his friendship.

"I would certainly consider pursuing a medical path in the military to be an admirable use of my time, Father, if you thought that it was feasible," I said slowly. This wasn't something that I had ever thought about before, but the thought of learning more about what Dr. Cullen and I talked about and being able to put it into practice on the battlefield was intriguing to me. I was excited by the look of happiness that crossed my father's face and the matching happiness on Dr. Cullen's face.

"How fickle you are in your goals, nephew," my aunt sneered at me. "You were so committed to the soldier's life the last time we spoke that I'd never imagine you to be so easily swayed. You must be quite the speaker, Dr. Cullen."

"It's not fickle to refine your goals," Dr. Cullen said, a tone of harshness in his voice. "Edward is still very young. I think it's admirable that he's open to the possibilities in front of him."

There was a strained silence as my aunt took in Dr. Cullen's rebuke and my father allowed her a moment to squirm under his scrutiny. I was thankful for Dr. Cullen's immediate defense of me, but I worried that his tone would serve to anger my aunt. Luckily, Mother walked over with Anna and Mrs. Scott.

"What is all of this serious talk over here?" she inquired, allowing my father to wrap his arm around her waist as she took her place next to him. "Everyone has such somber faces."

Her eyes flicked to Aunt Clara's face, which was decidedly angry, not somber. Then she looked to me, wondering just what had passed in the interim. Father, of course, was ready at hand.

"We were having a spirited discussion about Edward's future," he said jovially. "Dr. Cullen was informing me what an amazing doctor he thought that Edward might make someday. We were just discussing some of the medical avenues that he could explore in the armed forces."

If my father had been happy at this news, my mother was very nearly ecstatic. She looked at Dr. Cullen with new eyes, regarding him with gratitude and acceptance.

"What a wonderful compromise you've come up with, Dr. Cullen," she said. "You will have to join us for supper one evening in the near future to continue your discussion with Edward."

"Indeed," Aunt Clara added immediately, her voice cold and calculating. "And so that we can enjoy the pleasure of your company as our dear Edward has all night."

"I would like nothing better than to visit with your family again soon, but I am very rarely free for supper. I work very odd hours, you see. Perhaps on a weekend afternoon we might meet?"

"That sounds lovely," my mother said quickly. It had appeared as though my aunt had been inclined to argue, but once my mother had accepted, she closed her mouth and worked it into a small smile. He wished us all a good evening as was off, leaving all of us watching after him.

Anna and her mother stayed to help us with the last of the linens and dishes. Again, Aunt Clara disappointed me with her lack of interest in helping. While the five of us carried in pile after pile of soiled linens and dishes, Aunt Clara and Edie retired to their rooms to relax after the long party.

"They could help," I muttered to Anna as we gathered up the linens scattered around the yard.

"Hush, Edward," my father rebuked me softly. "They must be very tired after their journey here and it was a very long day for all of us."

I raised my eyebrows at him, letting him know with my glance who exactly I felt had had a long day and who had simply shown up and enjoyed. He silenced me with his look, but I could tell that he didn't disagree with me. After he was inside, Anna rolled her eyes at me.

"Well, at least I won't be required to show her around the town," she sighed and then giggled.

"Did she ever speak to you properly?" I asked, annoyed again by my cousin's behavior.

"No," she huffed. "I don't imagine that's possible for someone like her. She is utterly fake. She and the Kelly girls are perfect for each other."

It seemed to me that Anna was more hurt by Edie's dismissal than she had previously let on. She expected to be saddled with the new girl and had resigned herself to put up with her. She hadn't guessed that the new girl might reject her and treat her as unworthy. Although Anna was never much concerned with the way people saw her, I think that what people thought of her family had an incredible effect on her. She resented the fact that Edie considered herself better than her and her family.

"I am sorry that she and Aunt Clara made those assumptions about you and your family. It was unjust and uncalled for. I am going to speak to father about it tomorrow," I said, determined to make sure that Anna didn't feel ashamed again in front of my relatives.

"Oh, you mustn't!" she exclaimed. "Mother would be mortified if anything was ever mentioned to her about this. And Father would be so angry he would never let us come back here. Edward, he wouldn't let us be friends anymore if he knew about this slight."

I looked at her again, thinking about how my father might react if someone questioned our social standing. I doubted that he would cut ties with the family. Social standing mattered little to my father; he knew his own worth and didn't require the acceptance of others. But I imagined that Mr. Scott viewed the matter differently. He was a pretentious man who used his prestigious career as a lawyer to get him things that he otherwise would not be able to get. He used his money to try to buy his way into things, like he bragged of doing with the schools that Anna had applied to. I imagined that Mr. Scott would not take his daughter being accused of social climbing well, especially when his family was being compared to one he considered to be of equal standing to his own.

"You know that my father would never say anything to your family," I argued.

"No, but how difficult would it be for your aunt to make a snide remark at dinner some time? Certainly, we'll eat together as a family sometime in the near future. If your father talks to her, what do you think she'll do, Edward?"

I thought about it for only half a second before I realized that Anna was correct. Aunt Clara would find some way to make the entire Scott family feel uncomfortable. But I couldn't just let the insult go unmentioned.

My father came outside then and noticed the tension between Anna and me, but let it pass.

"Anna, dear," he said warmly. "Your mother has been so kind as to help Mrs. Masen finish with the dishes. I'm going to take you home now."

"Thank you, Mr. Masen," Anna said, gathering up the last of the napkins and hurrying into the house. My father followed her without saying anything to me.

When I was alone in the back yard, I looked up at the house, wondering what I could do to right this situation. As I looked up, I saw Edie looking down at me from the upstairs window, smirking. She let the curtain fall as soon as I saw her. Seeing her expression of triumph perplexed me even more than the situation at hand. I decided to talk to the one person I knew who could possibly right this situation. I needed to talk to my mother.

* * *

Mother was still bent over the sink when I walked into the kitchen, but I was relieved to see that she was alone. It was getting late and I was sure that Mrs. Scott was anxious to get home.

"Hello, darling," my mother said as I walked into the house. I could see how tired she was as she bent over the large sink, struggling with the last of the large platters.

"Here, Mother," I said, stripping off my tie and rolling up my sleeves. "Let me finish that for you."

She relinquished the platter with a sigh of relief and sat down for the first time that I had seen all evening.

"Did you enjoy yourself at the party, Edward?" my mother asked, smiling. She knew that my conversation with Dr. Cullen was possibly the highlight of my entire week.

"I did," I said. "But, Mother?" I asked.

She cocked her head slightly, waiting.

"Mother, something happened this evening and I'm not sure how to handle it."

She sat up, suddenly concerned.

"Edward, what is it? Are you hurt or in trouble?"

"No, no, it's not about me. It's about Anna and -- Edie," I said, looking at the platter and avoiding my mother's eyes.

"Oh?" she said. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Well, it's just that Anna has asked me not to say anything, but that doesn't feel like the right thing to do really. Aunt Clara made some assumptions about Anna's social status because she helped with the preparations for the party. It was -- hurtful -- to Anna. I don't know what to make of it."

"Tell me what was said," she said. I turned away from the sink and looked at her. She sat with her face in her hand regarding me soberly.

"When I introduced Anna to Aunt Clara, she assumed that we were courting," I said, and mother rolled her eyes. I ignored her. "When I explained that our families had been friends for some time and that Anna and I were friends, nothing more, she implied that Anna was using our family to advance socially. I then informed her that Anna and her mother had been very helpful in engineering this party, coming over several days in a row to help with preparations. All she said was 'how nice of her,' but it was the way she said it, Mother. It made my skin crawl. And, it nearly made Anna cry. I've never seen her in such a rage."

"It's very nice of you to be concerned for your friend, Edward, but there isn't much that we can do about your aunt's opinion of the Scott family. You see, your aunt and Edie come from a place that puts great emphasis on being better than others. Clara and Edie feel it even more being on their own, without your uncle. You can't judge them because they bring that attitude here. All that we can reasonably do is _show_ them how important the Scotts are to us, not as help but as friends. Also, any mention that we make of the situation would only do to draw it in starker colors, making it worse for Anna. I know you wouldn't want that."

"No," I said reluctantly. "But, it's more than that."

"What else?" she said.

"It just seems as though Aunt Clara has changed so much since she arrived on Wednesday. I don't understand it."

"Edward, these are very difficult things to understand, even for me. You need to recognize how frightened Aunt Clara felt when she was alone in Scranton with Edie. She felt helpless. When she knew that she would be able to come here, it was a great relief for her. Her first days were full of her relief at being able to leave the fear in Scranton. As she's become more at ease here, she's allowed herself to let go of the fear that consumed her. She's getting more comfortable, Edward.

"When people are comfortable, they show their real feelings and characters. For some people, that's a good thing. Like tonight when you danced with Helen and she became comfortable enough to let her beautiful smile show through. That blossoming was a lovely thing. For others, their true character isn't as beautiful."

I looked at her and thought about what she had said. I thought about all of the times that I had seen through people, the way that my mother thought was so much like the way my father judged people. She was right, of course. Very often, I watched people get in the way of themselves: embarrassment or nervousness hiding their true colors. Then, as they got more comfortable, you could almost see them blossoming into their true selves. It was usually a good process. But there were ugly flowers as well that hid their ugliness in brightly colored camouflage. It made perfect sense; I wondered that I hadn't thought of it myself.

Edie hadn't perfected her camouflage yet, so she hid her poor attitude behind excuses. But my aunt had come in disguise. She had disguised her disdain for us in her gratitude at being away from the flu. Now that she had put so many miles between herself and the threat, she felt comfortable enough to shed her disguise and show her true personality. I thanked my mother and headed up the steps to get ready for bed.

As I reached the head of the steps I stopped short, faced with the severe figure of my aunt staring at me. My mind was in a panic, wondering how much she had heard and what it would mean for me, for my mother, but most of all for the Scott family.

"Hello, Edward," she said sweetly, with a smile playing on her lips.

"Good evening, Aunt," I said, trying to place her tone.

"What a lovely party your family put on, and such wonderful guests! It was so thoughtful of your mother to invite young ladies of Edie's age who might make her acquaintance."

"Yes," I said unsteadily. "We very much hope that Edie will be happy here."

"Of course," she said, waving her hand. "And I'm sure that _you_ wish your cousin happiness as well?"

"Of course," I said, confused.

"Good," she said. "Because I have a favor to ask of you. It has to do with your new friend, the young doctor."

**_A/N: I know, I know. Another Cliffie. Sorry about that. :P Anyhoo, let me clear a couple of things up right here. Elizabeth does NOT know what Carlisle is, although she is more sensitive to his differences than the others. Remember from the first chapter that her family was very superstitious, so she tends to be more attuned to the supernatural, if you will. We know from the story in Twilight that she seemed to know that Carlisle could do more than any normal doctor. If they had met like this, I assumed that she would see something in him different from the others at the party. I hope you like this chapter. It was more difficult than I had anticipated. I'm used to writing conversations with Carlisle and Edward that take part mostly in Edward's head. lol. This was a different experience! :) Let me know what you think. Big hugs and kisses for all of the reviews. Edward thanks you too, and sends his love. *swoon* ~Jen_**


	7. Courting Carlisle

I stared at my aunt, wondering what favor I could possibly grant her regarding Dr. Cullen. I wondered, panicking for a second, if either she or Edie might be ill and in need of a doctor, but I didn't think that was the case.

"Oh, Edward, don't look so pained! It's just a little thing, after all," Aunt Clara crooned at me. I licked my lips and continued to wonder what I could do for her.

"I don't understand, Aunt Clara," I said. "Dr. Cullen and I had a conversation this evening, but I don't think he considers me his friend. What is it that you need?"

She laughed. It wasn't a pretty, lovely sound; it was harsh and bitter. "As I said before, it's not for me that I ask, Edward. This is for Edie. I know that she spoke to you of the boy she left behind in Scranton."

My eyes widened. I didn't know that Aunt Clara knew of Edie's and my discussion on their first night here.

"My daughter and I have no secrets between us, Edward," she said in explanation. "So, knowing that, you understand why I would like to make a match for her as quickly as possible. It would soothe her spirit certainly and make her transition to living here so much easier."

"But, what does Dr. Cullen have to do with this?" I asked. She couldn't mean to marry Edie off to Dr. Cullen, could she? It wasn't unheard of, but it certainly wasn't common for girls of Edie's age to be married.

"Why, I want him to court my daughter, of course," she said naturally. "He's a doctor, so therefore it stands to reason that he is well-off. He can support my daughter in the fashion to which she is used to. And, he seems to be a nice enough young man. That's surely helpful."

I just stared at her, unsure of what to say. The thought of my spoiled cousin on the arm of Dr. Cullen made me feel nauseous. And I had no idea what Aunt Clara had in mind for me. How was _I_ supposed to entice Dr. Cullen into courting my cousin?

"But what is it that you want me to do, Aunt Clara?" I asked.

"Well, now, Edie will be the one to do most of the work. But I need _you_ to convince your mother and father to invite him for supper next week. We can't entice him to court Edie if he never comes back around, can we? And a simple afternoon meeting with you isn't going to do anything for Edie, either. Supper will give Edie much more time to impress him."

"But," I said, stuttering in my discomfort. "You heard him at the party! He doesn't eat at the same time as most people! He already declined Mother's invitation."

"The man has to eat, Edward," she said, shaking her head. "So we adjust our schedule to fit his. Very simple."

"Mother won't be comfortable imposing herself on someone like that, Aunt Clara."

"Yes, your mother is going to be a problem," she said sourly. She paused with her lips pursed, thinking. "Here is what you are going to do, Edward. When Dr. Cullen comes over to speak with you over the weekend, you are going to come up with some excuse why he must come back during the week, at night, to meet with the family."

"But, what if he doesn't agree? I can't _make_ him come back here if he doesn't wish to!"

"Oh, but you had better do you best, Edward dear," she said sweetly. "Because if you don't, I plan to make things very uncomfortable indeed for you and your little friend, Anna."

"What do you mean?"

"Edie saw you two have your little fight in the back yard, dear. I know that you two aren't what you lead everyone to believe. How do you think her mother will feel about you when I tell her that you've been leading her little girl on?"

"Mrs. Scott will never believe that!"

"But of course she will, Edward! She's the mother of a young girl. She wants the two of you to be together and she will be only too willing to listen to me when I tell her about how you've kept her as your friend with no intention of ever marrying her."

"But, Anna doesn't feel that way about me!" I argued, my voice getting louder in my anger.

"Are you so sure of that?" she asked, as she turned away from me. "But that doesn't matter anyway, dear. All that matters is what her mother will think about my revelations. And I'm sure that you can deduce that yourself. So, do I make myself very clear Edward?"

Seeing Aunt Clara like this, I could only guess the way that she could mangle the situation to fit her needs. Mrs. Scott would see things her way eventually, that was clear. I stared after her as she started up the second staircase. _I_ knew that there was nothing untoward between Anna and me, but it didn't follow that the rest of the world could see that. If my aunt made insinuations about our relationship that made it seem as if I was taking advantage of Anna, I would not only lose my best friend, but also the friendship of her entire family.

"Edward, do I make myself clear?" she asked from the third step.

"Yes, Aunt Clara," I said hollowly, watching as she smiled and ascended the rest of the staircase. I trudged the rest of the way to my room and laid my jacket and tie on the chair. I flopped onto my bed, still fully clothed and suddenly wide awake despite the exhaustion of the day.

What was I going to do? I liked Dr. Cullen very much and I admit that I was very much looking forward to meeting with him to continue our discussion. But now, Aunt Clara had turned that anticipation into dread. I didn't like the idea of misleading Dr. Cullen. He seemed so genuine when we spoke this evening. He didn't deserve to be lied to.

But I couldn't ignore my aunt's request knowing that she planned to put a wedge between Anna's and my friendship. No, I would have to do something. I couldn't let her make Mrs. Scott think poorly of me or of Anna.

Maybe the best option would be to let Dr. Cullen handle the situation. I doubted that he would be attracted to my young cousin. She was shallow and mean-spirited, not the sort of girl that I thought would interest a man like Dr. Cullen. Perhaps I could fulfill my end of the bargain without saddling Dr. Cullen with Edie after all.

I eventually was able to get myself ready for bed and fall asleep to fretful dreams. I woke up the next morning no more satisfied with the job I had been assigned, but resigned to seeing it through.

* * *

True to his word, Dr. Cullen sent some medical volumes home with my father on Wednesday evening. There were two large books that appeared to be textbooks and one smaller book that Dr. Cullen felt would be of particular interest to me. Inside the cover of _The Structure and Function of Bacteria_, I found a folded piece of paper with flowing script on it. It was a note addressed to me from Dr. Cullen.

_Edward:_

_I hope that you enjoy the books that I've picked out for you. The larger two are textbooks that I used in my school days. They will give you a basic understanding of some of the principles you would be studying in Medical School. This book, however, I thought would peak your interest greatly. Fischer explains very clearly the science of all kinds of bacteria. I hope you enjoy it. I will speak with your father, but would it be agreeable with you if I stop by your house on Saturday afternoon? I very much look forward to seeing you again and discussing in great detail the things you learn from the books._

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle Cullen_

Father smiled at me as I looked through the books that night.

"Carlisle asked me about stopping over this weekend," he said when I closed the larger of the two textbooks.

"Oh?" I asked, an uncomfortable knot forming in my stomach at the thought of seeing Dr. Cullen again. I disliked feeling uncomfortable about our coming meeting and I cursed my aunt silently for putting me in this situation.

"I would have thought that you would be ecstatic about seeing Carlisle again!" my father enthused. "You don't seem very excited at all."

"It's not that," I said quickly. "It's just that I understand how busy he is. I'm trying not to get my hopes up," I explained.

"Oh, that's wise," my father agreed. "It's very kind of him to take such an interest in your schooling, Edward."

"Yes," I said. "It is. I appreciate him loaning me these books. I will make sure to write him a note of thanks for when I return them."

"He doesn't want them back, actually."

"Sorry?" I said. The books sitting in front of me were not cheaply made. They looked to be rather richly designed things that were each fairly expensive in their own right.

"He wants you to have them," my father said. "He insisted that he constantly had to purchase the newest volumes in order to stay on top of the latest practices. These volumes are from his student days and he thought that you might have more use for them than he would."

"That's very kind indeed," I said, looking at the books again, excited to be able to give them the attention that they deserved.

"How are you and Edie faring, Edward?" he asked, leaning over the desk. "You two seemed off to such a good start when you took her for that walk the night they arrived."

"Edie and I are--" I trailed off, trying to decide what Edie and I were exactly. "We're two very different people, Father. We tolerate each other, but I don't know that we will ever be friends."

He chuckled. "I appreciate that you seem to be trying so hard, son. How about your Aunt Clara? Have you and she been getting along well?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "Fine."

He knitted his brows together and looked at me seriously.

"Your mother spoke to me of your concerns, Edward," he said.

"And I'm sure she told you that she answered all of my questions," I said shortly. I didn't think that speaking to Father of my aunt's demands would do anything help the situation.

"She did," he said, frowning. "I'm not convinced. Has she done anything further to make you or Anna uncomfortable? I consider the Scotts part of our family. I won't tolerate her insulting our friends."

"No," I said firmly. "It was just that one time. Everything is fine now."

He nodded, but I didn't think that he fully believed me. He didn't press me further and we sat in an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the evening.

* * *

The rest of the week passed slowly and torturously as I tried to work out what I would say to Dr. Cullen that would ensure his return one night in the coming week. After much deliberation, I had decided to invite him back one evening to discuss with my family all of the details and preparations I would need to make if I chose to pursue a medical career in the army. I thought that it wouldn't seem too suspicious if, after our discussion, I related my intention to follow this career path and asked for his help in informing my parents about the things that I would need to do.

In fact, deciding to take this step left me feeling much better about many things. Even though I had been certain about my choice of enlisting in the army, it had always bothered me how this path had upset my parents. I was happy to have an option that could fulfill my desire for military service and keep my parents happy. I was certain that Dr. Cullen would be more than happy to come back one night during the week to speak with my family

On Saturday afternoon, Dr. Cullen came over around three o'clock. My mother led him into the study where I was waiting for him with the books open on my father's desk.

"Thank you again, Dr. Cullen, for taking the time to speak with Edward. We so appreciate your guidance," she said warmly as she closed the door behind him.

"Thank you for coming, Dr. Cullen," I said. "As my mother said, your guidance is much appreciated."

"It is my pleasure, Edward," he said, smiling. "Please, call me Carlisle. There are no need for such formalities."

"Ok, Carlisle," I said, unused to calling an adult by their first name but pleased that he wished to treat me as a peer. "And thank you, also, for the generous gift of your books. They were very enlightening!"

"Oh, it's hardly a gift, Edward. As I told your father, I have far too many books. Really, you do me a favor by taking them from me!" he laughed.

We talked for some time about the things that I had read, particularly in the bacteria book. Carlisle told me about some of the new things that doctors had learned since that book had been written over fifteen years ago. He told me that medicine fascinated him because it was constantly changing and he had to constantly change with it in order to stay up to date.

"Have you thought any more about what we discussed at the party, Edward?" Carlisle asked when we hit a lull in the conversation.

"You mean about pursuing a medical career in the army?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, smiling.

"I have," I said, nodding my head. "In fact, I'm fairly sure that it is something I would very much like to pursue. But, I admit, I have no idea how to accomplish this goal!"

He laughed. "Well, if it wouldn't be too forward of me, I would be happy to mentor you in this endeavor. I believe that you would make a fine doctor, Edward, and I would like to do whatever I can to help you achieve your goals."

This was better than I had could have hoped. Without my having to even ask, Carlisle had agreed to help me.

"That's very kind of you, Carlisle," I said. "I was hoping that I might ask for your help. I'm going to need some help when I discuss this with my parents."

"But I thought they would be thrilled with this choice," he said, misinterpreting what I needed help with.

"They will be. But none of us know exactly what I'll need to do in order to ensure my placement as a medical doctor in the armed forces."

"I see," he said. "Well, I can certainly explain that to them. But unfortunately, I have to get back to the hospital just now."

"Of course," I said. "I'd like to discuss it with them privately, before we enter into details. Perhaps you might be able to join us one night this week?"

He considered for a brief moment and then nodded slowly.

"Perhaps I could come over on Thursday of the coming week. I could join you after your family had supper to sit and discuss with them the preparations you would need to make."

"I will discuss it with my family tonight, but that sounds like a perfect plan," I said, pleased with how well this had worked out. Although it wasn't supper, it would be an extended time with our family. Surely my aunt would be satisfied with my efforts.

"I look forward to seeing you again soon, Edward," he said.

"On Thursday," I said, extending my hand. He took my hand and I was again struck by how hard and cold it was. It wasn't normal at all and I wondered if he was possibly coming down with an illness.

As I walked him to the door, Aunt Clara and Edie made their entrance into the foyer. Edie had clearly dressed up for this moment.

"Oh, Dr. Cullen! I didn't even know you were here!" Aunt Clara said. "You remember my daughter, Edie, from the party?"

"Of course, Mrs. Boyer, Miss. Boyer, how nice to see you again," he said cordially. "I hope to see you again soon."

He ducked out the door before Aunt Clara was able to say anything further. I nodded to her slowly, knowing that she would take my meaning and walked out into the kitchen to see if Mother needed any help before dinner.

That night's dinner was full of conversation. Of course, they all wanted to know what Carlisle and I had spoken about but once I revealed my new found goals, Mother and Father had no time for anything else.

"This is wonderful news, Edward!" Mother exclaimed, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. "Tell me everything that you and Dr. Cullen discussed!"

"We didn't talk very much about it today, Mother. Actually, I asked him to come over later this week, on Thursday, to speak with all of us about what these plans entail. I hope that will be good for everyone?" I looked around the table and saw Aunt Clara's small smile.

"Will he be joining us for dinner, Edward?" Father asked.

"No," I said, watching Aunt Clara's head jerk up. My breath caught in my throat. "He apologized that he couldn't make it for supper at all this week because of his work schedule, but he said that he could join us just after supper on Thursday. He hoped that would be acceptable."

A slight nod from Aunt Clara and I could breathe again.

"Of course," my mother said shaking her head. "All of the time that he has already given to us! He is such a generous man."

"Yes, indeed he is," Aunt Clara said, her eyes turned down but a devious smile playing along her lips.

Aunt Clara became infinitely more cordial to me in the days before Carlisle's visit. It seemed to me as though she was practicing for how she might act in front of the young doctor when he arrived. I had been wary of her just after my announcement, fearing that my efforts would not have been enough for her. But I was pleased that she seemed at least reasonable when she considered the doctor's schedule. What I hadn't been prepared for was Edie's assault on me the day before Carlisle was to come.

"Edward," I looked up, startled, from the book I was reading in my room. I always left my door open, but most often I was left alone when in my room. I certainly hadn't been expecting Edie to make her way here. "I'm sorry to trouble you, cousin, I was hoping that I might have a few minutes of your time."

I put the book down and stood up, gesturing her to the seat at my desk. When she was seated, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her, wondering what she could want.

"You know what Mother has planned for tomorrow night?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes at her and then regretted it when she stiffened. I cleared my throat.

"Yes, I am aware that she hopes for Car--Dr. Cullen to take an interest in you," I said carefully, not wanting to betray how close I was to him.

"He lets you call him Carlisle?" she asked, laughing. "Maybe you'll be of more help to me than I thought."

"I don't understand," I said, running my fingers through my hair.

"I have to find a way to interest him," she said, biting her lip. "I don't know anything about him. Mother said you might know something that could help me."

"All we've talked about is medicine, Edie," I said truthfully. "I don't know anything about him personally."

She scowled at the floor, unhappy but seemingly not surprised.

"I told her that he was just humoring you, that he wasn't really your friend," she said.

What she said was most likely true. Unfortunately, it stung me. I had wanted to believe him my friend. Perhaps, mentor was a more appropriate term. I waited while she stewed for a few more seconds. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave and I did feel a little bad for her. She didn't seem to _want_ to be in this situation.

"Edie," I said softly. "Do you _want_ to court Dr. Cullen?"

She stuck her chin out and looked at me.

"What is it to you, anyway?" she asked. "He's a smart, successful doctor. Why shouldn't he want to--I mean, why shouldn't I want to be with him?"

She looked down, blushing. I could see now why she was nervous. She was afraid of Carlisle's rejection. I felt mean-hearted for being so anxious for him to turn her down. I still thought it was inevitable, but looking at how embarrassed she was, I was reminded just how young Edie was. Aunt Clara was putting a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. It was unfair of her to do, but I thought that maybe I could understand it. In light of what my mother had said before about how scared Aunt Clara was without my uncle, perhaps it made sense for her to try to match her daughter with the most successful man that she could find. It still felt wrong to me that she would play with Edie's feelings this way when it seemed so likely that Carlisle would rebuff her. But, maybe Aunt Clara didn't see it that way.

"Look, Edie," I said, immediately uncomfortable but feeling compelled to say something to her. "Carlisle is a kind and gentle man. He would never embarrass or intentionally hurt anyone. Just be yourself and who knows what will happen?"

The minute the words were out of my mouth, I wished that I could take them back. She stood up, red-faced and near tears. She was glaring at me like I was the worst kind of monster imaginable.

"Edward Masen, you are a horrible person!" she breathed, barely audible. "I don't need your's or anyone else's pity. Do you understand? Just because _some_ girls will settle for friendship, doesn't mean that the rest of us can't get what we set our sights on. Maybe you should invite your little friend over so that she can take notes and see how to really win a man's heart."

She darted out of the room and I sat there, shocked, unable to move for several minutes. I hadn't meant to imply that she couldn't achieve her goals, just that she shouldn't worry about Carlisle's rejection. He would never make her feel bad about herself; I knew that much of his character at least.

But what she said about _some_ girls sat uncomfortably in my mind. It made me remember Aunt Clara's question of the other night: was I so sure that Anna didn't feel romantically attached to me? First Aunt Clara, now Edie. Was I missing something? _Had_ I been leading Anna on when she wanted more from me? Would it even make a difference?

I sighed, falling back on the bed with my hands in my hair. I decided that I needed to talk to Anna. If I had been acting dishonorably to her, I would right the situation. I didn't think that I could ever feel for her romantically the way that Aunt Clara and Edie thought she felt for me. But if I was hurting her with my friendship, I would make amends even if it meant not seeing her anymore. I didn't wish to hurt her in any way. I would speak to Mother about inviting the Scotts over for dinner after this whole fiasco with Carlisle was finished with, preferably on a night that Aunt Clara and Edie had other plans.

* * *

We finished dinner on Thursday evening quicker than most evenings. We had all of the dishes cleared and were gathered in the sitting room when the doorbell rang. Father rose to answer the door and I noticed Mother watching Aunt Clara fuss over Edie's dress and hair quietly before Carlisle came into the room. Her eyes narrowed as Aunt Clara ran her knuckle up Edie's back to get her sit up straighter. I was sure that Mother had figured out the scheme, but she made no mention of her discovery. She smiled warmly as I stood to greet our guest.

"Dr. Cullen," Father said, patting him on the shoulder. "We're all anxious to hear everything you have to say tonight. You can't imagine how happy this turn of events has made Elizabeth and I."

"Oh, I can certainly imagine," he said, chuckling. "I have treated many former soldiers, Edward. I know what dangers lie on the front lines. Any amount of distance we can put between your son and those lines is worthwhile."

"And it's so kind of you to take such an interest in our Edward," Aunt Clara said sweetly. Father and Mother looked at each other briefly, but Carlisle shook his head.

"Oh, it's my pleasure, Mrs. Boyer. Edward is a fine young man. He will make an excellent doctor someday, military or civilian."

She smiled and Edie batted her eyelids. I barely restrained myself from covering my eyes. It looked as though it was going to be a very long evening indeed. Carlisle handled everything very smoothly. He told my parents everything that he had learned about entering the military as a doctor. It seemed as though my best option would be to go to medical school first and then to enter the military. Should I enlist first, I would be sacrificing medical training and only getting a course in field medicine to become a medic. We all agreed that with the war so close to ending, becoming a doctor should be my first priority and I would enlist after that. My mother was quick to add that I should only do so if the desire still struck me. I smiled at her and she shrugged slightly. I couldn't really blame her for trying.

Dr. Cullen began to gather his hat and bag when we had finished with the particulars.

"You will forgive me if I say goodnight? I have much paperwork to finish before it gets too late," he said.

"Oh, but we haven't had the chance to hear anything about _you_, Dr. Cullen," Aunt Clara said.

Mother and Father both looked at her, confusion written plain across both of their faces. Carlisle smiled at her, but didn't offer any information.

"Perhaps, Edward, Elizabeth, you would be so kind as to give Edie and me a few minutes alone with Dr. Cullen. I have a few questions that I wanted to ask him privately."

There were two emotions warring inside of me as my parents and I shuffled out of our sitting room. I felt embarrassed for what Carlisle was about to be subjected to and I felt monumentally worried for Edie. Even though she had spoken so harshly to me the previous day, I told myself that she had only done so out of her own nervousness. The three of us assembled in the kitchen and the hissing whispers began.

"What is going on in there?" my mother hissed at my father.

"I don't know," he said defensively. "I didn't know anything about it."

I tried to look down at the ground, but as soon as mother looked over at me I knew that I had been figured out. She reached me in two steps. Even hanging my head, she was still looking up at me. She was furious.

"You _knew_ about this?" she hissed.

"Yes," I said miserably.

"And you didn't _tell_ me?"

"I couldn't!" I defended. "She cornered me after the party. She said if I didn't get him back here somehow, she would--well, she would make things difficult for me."

"And you believed her?" she asked, incredulous. "Of course you did. Because you're a good boy and she took advantage of that. Edward," she turned to my father and he slunk back against the wall slightly. "If she ruins this mentorship for our son, I'm going to regret very much bringing her here."

He bravely fought back the smile that was inching its way up his lips.

"Yes, dear," was all he said. He and I both knew that she would never regret saving them.

It didn't take long. When Dr. Cullen emerged from the sitting room, he smiled warmly at us and promised to send along some new books for me. I thanked him profusely for coming and for his offer of new books. He just smiled.

"Perhaps in thanks, you will agree to meet with me again to discuss those new books," he said.

I nodded my head eagerly, surprised and pleased that he would want to see me again. And then I worried that perhaps he had agreed to Aunt Clara's plans.

Once he left, I looked long and hard at Edie. She was quiet and subdued. She didn't look triumphant or defiant, the way I would have pictured her had she achieved her goal. Neither she nor Aunt Clara offered an explanation for the private discussion with Carlisle and my parents did not broach the subject, pleased with Carlisle's promise to visit again. It wasn't until I was on my way to bed that night that I got any indication of what had gone wrong in the sitting room.

There was a soft knock at my door as I was unbuttoning my shirt for bed. I quickly fixed my shirt and answered the door, knowing that it had to be my aunt.

"Aunt Clara," I said, forcing a smile. Inside, I was painfully worried that she was going to ask another favor of me.

"Don't look so worried, Edward. I just came to ask you a question," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Why didn't you tell me that Dr. Cullen was so much older than Edie? I would have never guessed that a man who looked as young as he does is 35!"

"I--I didn't know his age, Aunt Clara," I said. I was as shocked as she had been.

"Well, it's no matter. It's just going to call for a slight change in my plans. It's not the end of the world."

"I'm sorry," I said, sick in my stomach now. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, he's obviously too old for Edie," she said slowly and my stomach relaxed. "But _I_ have no attachments. Perhaps, in time, he might come to see me as a potential companion."

She turned and walked away then, not giving me the chance to reply. I was grateful for that; words had completely failed me.

**_A/N: Well, she's nothing if not persistent, right? :) So, this chapter was nice and juicy for you. I tried to spare you some of the mundane science stuff. It wasn't all because I found it uninteresting . . . it was mostly because I was an English major in college and I stink at science. lol. PM me if you have any questions about some of the historical stuff, such as medical training in 1918 and the way people become doctors. Scary stuff, if you research it. All I have to say is I feel much more comfortable with today's standards! Anyway, let me know what you think! I'm on a diet right now, so reviews are like my candy and desert. C'mon. let me OD on them! ;) Besides, Aunt Clara hates reviews. Make her angry. :) ~Jen_**


	8. Friendship, Under the Microcope

I didn't think much on Aunt Clara's musings over the next several days; I had far too many other things on my mind to be troubled with her plans. She no longer required my help, that was clear, and she didn't seem comfortable blackmailing me for her own benefit anyway. After her vague references about seeking out Carlisle's companionship for herself, she spoke no further on the subject. She was pleasant to me, but it always felt forced and fake.

The day after Carlisle came to speak to my family, many things changed in our house. For one, talk of the war became far less stressful. It had been on the front page of every paper that entered our house for the past year but broaching the topic in my mother's vicinity always garnered angry stares and banging pots. Now, things were much easier. That morning, my father sat at the kitchen table reading the front page of the paper with a look of great relief written on his face.

"Look here, Liz," he said as Mother brought over our bowls of oatmeal. "The Germans called for a retreat at Marne not two days ago. The _Sun_ is saying that this could be a major turning point for the Allied forces."

"What wonderful news," she said, smiling but not looking at either of us. My father looked at me pointedly over the top of his paper to see if I had been watching her reaction. I saw the side of his lip turn up when he noticed my raised brows. From that point on, whether it was because the war seemed to be heading towards its final resolution or because I wouldn't be heading for a trench sometime in the near future, we were now able to discuss global events involving the war without fear of bloodshed or broken crockery.

If the morning newspaper reading became less stressful, family relations throughout the rest of the day became a bit more complicated. My parents had no illusions about what had transpired between Aunt Clara and Carlisle. They knew that she was attempting to convince him to court Edie; they hadn't needed me to spell out why she wanted him to come back to the house or speak to him alone. Although my parents were mollified by Carlisle's promise to return and his continued interest in my future medical career, they could not easily forget my admission that Aunt Clara had threatened me in order to achieve her goals. They refused to speak with her about it and she was certainly not volunteering any information about the private conversation. But relations between my aunt and my parents were extremely difficult.

It was apparent starting the very next day. My aunt and Edie had a habit of sleeping later than the rest of the family. They usually breakfasted after we had already vacated the kitchen. It was a Sunday, so the three of us were getting prepared for Church services by the time that Aunt Edie and Clara came down, fully dressed for the day, to break their fast.

"Clara," my mother said tersely as she passed her in the hall.

"Elizabeth," Aunt Clara nodded, following my mother with her eyes as she continued past her, never pausing.

On any other day, Mother would have joined them in the kitchen to discuss the day. The frostiness in their relations continued throughout the day and made dinner a difficult, quiet affair. However, the frostiness turned downright icy after I spoke with my parents on Monday evening.

We were sitting playing Parcheesi in the parlor after dinner. Aunt Clara and Edie had retired to their rooms immediately following dinner. As we sat around the game table, something was gnawing at me. I kept hearing the words of my aunt and my cousin repeating over and over in my head. _Are you so sure of that, Edward?_ she taunted me over and over in my head. And right after that, I heard Edie's too-high, indignant voice. _Just because __**some**__ girls will settle for friendship, doesn't mean the rest of us can't get what we set our sights on_. The more I heard them, the more convinced I became that I was a horrible friend and terribly blind.

"Edward Anthony Masen, you've been wringing your hands throughout the entire day," my mother said with a worried look on her face. "I wanted to wait for you to talk to me, but there you sit, still worrying something to death. What _is_ it that's troubling you?"

I looked from my mother to my father who both stared knowingly back at me. I thought I had been doing a fairly good job of keeping my thoughts and worries to myself; apparently, I was mistaken. I lowered my head into my hands and exhaled deeply.

"Do I strike you as a particularly near-sighted individual?" I asked.

"Pardon?" my mother asked.

"It's just--" I said, floundering for words. "Someone mentioned something to me that has gotten me to thinking about my friendship with Anna. I'm worried that I've possibly been missing something and have . . . somehow . . . hurt her."

The words came out in one, rushed breath. I never looked up at my mother and father for fear that I would be greeted with their disapproval, or worse, their anger. I was angry enough at myself and I didn't even know if my fears were well founded.

"Edward," my mother said, reaching over and taking my hand gently. "You are one of the most perceptive young men that I know, although you are rarely able to see yourself clearly. You are a wonderful friend to Anna and you have never done anything that you ought to be ashamed of. Aren't I right, Edward?" she asked my father.

I still couldn't look up, but I knew instinctively that my father was blushing. This was an uncomfortable topic for him as well.

"I've always been very proud of your friendship with Anna," he said gruffly.

"Of course we have," Mother picked up. "You are always a gentleman and you treat her with the respect that we raised you with. You've done nothing wrong, son! Who said these things?"

I groaned, knowing that telling then who was causing my worry would only serve to make the house a more uncomfortable place. But I didn't need to say anything.

"I should have known," Mother said, releasing my hand and banging the table lightly. "Your sister has gone too far, Edward!"

"Mother, please!" I said, looking up. "She never said anything directly. She mentioned something in passing and then Edie said something in passing and--putting the two of them together--I began thinking about the way I've handled myself. I was left with more questions than answers."

"What are your questions?" she asked me with pursed lips, ready with an arsenal of answers.

"They're not really for you; they are for Anna," I said weakly. Her face softened a bit but she didn't respond. "If I've hurt her in any way, I need to try to right my mistakes."

"Son," my father said, face redder than before. "Have your feelings for Anna . . . changed in some way?"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "It's not that, Father. I just want to be sure that I understand her feelings for _me_ so that I am not taking advantage of her friendship."

Father cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

"And, how do you plan to find this out?" Mother asked quietly.

"Well, I need your help," I said, smiling slightly.

"Mm-hmm," Mother said. "And how will I help if you won't even tell me the questions you want to ask?"

"That's not the type of help that I need," I said. "I wondered if you might invite the Scotts over for dinner sometime this week? Perhaps--"

I stopped, not sure of how to ask the last favor. I knew that if Aunt Clara or Edie were here, they would eavesdrop on my conversation with Anna. They might even try to interfere. They would certainly make her feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to make this any more uncomfortable than I knew it was bound to be.

"Perhaps what, Edward?" My mother said with a wry smile.

"Perhaps on a night when Aunt Clara and Edie have other plans?" I said sheepishly.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," she said, sighing. "Right, Edward?"

Father nodded, pleased that this conversation was over. Surprisingly, I was as well. I was glad to have these worries off my chest. Now, I just had to figure out how to approach the subject with Anna.

* * *

The Scotts were more than happy to join us for dinner on Friday evening. Mrs. Scott missed Mother's company terribly now that the garden party was finished and she was thrilled at the opportunity to spend time with us. I was even surprised at how easy it was to make sure that Aunt Clara and Edie were out of the house. Mother said it only took a simple call to Mrs. Kelly, thanking her and her daughters for their kind reception of Edie at the party. She only had to drop one hint about them inviting Edie and Clara for dinner on Friday. Mrs. Kelly was more than happy to oblige. And, when Aunt Clara received the invitation, she was more than happy to accept. Everything was in order.

I busied myself in the interim with the newest shipment of books from Carlisle. He sent five books this time, all of which appeared to be newer textbooks that dealt with physiology, anatomy, and the new science of antibiotics. In one of the textbooks, I found another handwritten note addressed to me and I had trouble repressing my smile of happiness.

_Edward_,

_I'm so glad that you found the other books useful and interesting. These tomes are a bit more advanced and thorough in their treatment of the subject matter. They are also more recent. Pay particular attention to the Latin names of the parts of the body as knowledge of these will come in particularly useful. I hope to see you again soon, although I am unable to commit to time this week. Perhaps next week we can meet at your father's office as I will be going there to give a deposition._

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle_

I was disappointed that I couldn't look forward to a visit with Carlisle this week, but I set myself to the task of learning as many of the Latin names as I could. It was difficult because I first had to learn all of the technical English names. But, I was pleased with myself at how quickly I was able to memorize the information. I recognized, however, that I was throwing myself into this study so thoroughly to avoid thinking about the coming meeting with Anna.

I still had no idea what to say to her. In truth, I had very little experience with the opposite sex. I had been forced into many meetings with girls by my parents, but always those meetings were a game of impressing the parents with my charm. I never really spoke to a girl of my affections, or lack there of, before. The only girl that I had ever engaged in intimate conversation was Anna. But we had never spoken of our _feelings_. Perhaps this was the crux of my problem.

I sighed, sitting on my bed as I waited for the Scott's to arrive Friday evening. I knew my mother would scowl at my appearance because my hair was a ratty mess from running my hands through it. I was nervous, sweating, and already blushing when I heard the door. Then, my stomach dropped to my feet and I wondered if, perhaps, this was all a huge mistake. Maybe bringing attention to this situation would only make it worse. Maybe, if I just was more--but I cut off my wonderings and rose to go downstairs. There was no sense in being a coward now that I had gone through the trouble of bringing Anna here.

The worst that could possibly come from this discussion would be finding out that she had feelings for me that I couldn't return. I would feel awful and our friendship would be ruined. I had already made up my mind not to feign affection for her; she deserved better than that and I was confident that she would find better than that. I would do her no favors by pretending to return her feelings.

When I reached the bottom of the steps, I heard my mother greeting Mrs. Scott and Anna in the kitchen and my father walking with Mr. Scott into the study. My heart was racing in my nervousness so I stopped in the sitting room for a moment to compose myself. I was being ridiculous. This was my best friend and I owed it to her to get this over with before my worry drove a wedge between us. I straightened my tie, squared my shoulders, and walked into the kitchen.

I found it much easier to be rational when actually talking to Anna, which was very comforting to me. There was almost no trace of my previous nervousness when I greeted her and her mother. Aunt Clara's words had made me reevaluate a lot of relationships and I was beginning to see that there were things that I had missed. Helen, for insistence. I was fairly sure that Helen harbored feelings for me that were more than friendly. As I greeted Anna, I tried to compare her reaction to Helen's reaction to see if I could decipher anything further.

"Good evening, Mrs. Scott, Anna," I said, nodding my head to each of them.

"Good evening, Edward," Mrs. Scott returned, smiling slightly and then turning directly back to my mother.

Anna continued to smile at me. Perhaps _smirk_ would have been a more appropriate word. She smirked at me. I noticed that she didn't blush the way that Helen had when I said hello and her gaze never left my own. She wasn't intimidated by me, although I wouldn't have expected Anna Scott to be intimidated by anyone, man or woman. I started smirking myself at that thought.

Before long, it was supper time and Anna and I helped Mother and Mrs. Scott to fill the table. Dinner was a quiet but pleasant affair. It was so much less stressful than the meals of the past week had been. I was grateful for the fact that, although my coming conversation might be awkward, our families still seemed to be able to chat comfortably with each other. Of course, Anna and I remained silent through most of it, but still, the silence was companionable.

After dinner, Anna and I helped to clear the table and then my mother suggested that we play checkers in the sitting room while she and Mrs. Scott had a cup of tea. I could feel the nervousness creeping back into my stomach as we approached the sitting room. Before we were even seated, Anna was speaking in rushed whispers.

"Thank God!" she said. "I thought they'd never let us alone so I could find out what's been troubling you!"

I looked at her, amazed. Could every woman in my life read my mind?

"I beg your pardon?"

"You've been fretting since we got here. What did she do? Did she threaten you?" How could she have gotten so close to the truth? I sighed, knowing that this was inevitable.

"Who do you mean exactly?" I asked uncomfortably.

"Please, Edward, don't insult my intelligence. Your Aunt Clara, of course."

I groaned, wondering again how she could have known everything without my having revealed anything. I convinced myself that I was, perhaps, the most blind individual of the lot. "I need to ask you something," I said miserably.

"Alright," she said slowly, straightening. "What do you need?"

"I--Well, you see, it's just--I mean," I shook my head and dropped it into my hands.

"Edward, just ask me already. What do you need me to do? It's not murder, is it? I won't be comfortable with that. But, I could agree to lying or bribery if you need that."

I laughed hard then, feeling relief that despite my discomfort, she was still able to joke.

"Aunt Clara said something that made me think about our friendship differently, Anna," I said, sobering. "I haven't--been a bad friend to you, have I?"

She looked at me stunned for a second and then her features turned angry.

"_What_ did that woman say to you?" she hissed.

My eyes opened wide at her anger. I was expecting surprise. I wasn't expecting outright rage.

"She just mentioned that I was, perhaps, not understanding the reason we were friends. That, maybe, you had feelings for me that were--different--than my feelings for you. Not that I don't--"

She held up her hand with her eyes closed.

"Let me see if I understand," she said. "Your obnoxious aunt implied that I was pining away for you and continuing a pathetic friendship with you in an attempt to have contact with you? Is that about it?"

"Well, not in so many words . . ." I said.

"Edward," she said, her smile returning a little. "Do I strike you as the type of girl who _settles_ for things?"

"I--no, Anna. You're one of the most determined people that I know."

"Do you think that I am unattractive?" she asked.

I blushed furiously and looked down.

"Of course not!" I whispered. "But, you know that I--"

"I know how you feel about me, Edward!" she snapped. "I feel the same way about you; I always have. You're my best friend, nothing more. But, I am disappointed in you."

She looked at me, shaking her head.

"Disappointed? Why?"

"I'm disappointed that you would think that I could be that pathetic. I wouldn't think so poorly of you," she said harshly.

"Anna, I don't think poorly of you!" I said. "Don't you see? I was angry with myself. They seemed to see something that I was missing. I mean, if both of them saw it, maybe I was missing it!"

"Right, because you always miss so much--wait, _both_ of them?" she asked.

"Er," I said, stalling. I had forgotten that I had only mentioned my aunt. It never did to lie; I was terrible at it and forgetful to boot. "Edie may have said something that influenced my thinking as well."

"They really are terrible people, aren't they?" she asked.

"No," I sighed. "That's just it. They're not terrible. I don't understand my aunt most of the time and I think that she is more devious than anyone I've ever met, but she is in a much different situation than either you or I are used to. And Edie is only trying to please Aunt Clara."

"You talked to your mother, didn't you?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes," I laughed. "How did you know?"

"Because your mother is the most forgiving creature I know," she said, smiling. "How are you able to forgive them for making you feel this way?"

"Well, you're still my friend, that's one reason," I said slowly. "And, even though I was uncomfortable asking, I don't know that it was wrong for us to have this conversation. We never have, you know."

She thought about that for a moment and then nodded her head slowly.

"I don't disagree with you that it is good for us to talk about these things," she agreed, "but I would have preferred it to be because we _chose_ to have the conversation, not because your aunt _forced_ you into feeling guilty."

"Whatever the reason, I'm happy to know that we will be friends for many years to come," I said.

"Agreed," she said. "Now, what did nasty Edie say to you?"

"It was nothing, really. Just an implication that she made when--" I stopped, angry with myself for having slipped again. I hadn't intended to tell Anna about my Aunt's plans.

"When what?" she said, smiling, anxious for the juicy details no doubt.

"When we were discussing Dr. Cullen," I said.

"Oh! Dr. Cullen," she said wistfully and I raised my eyebrows. I guess it wasn't surprising that Anna would find him attractive; every other woman at the party had found him attractive. "He seems like such a wonderful man. And what your mother and father were saying at the table! About him mentoring you so that you could attend Medical School! That's wonderful news!"

I was thrilled to be able to avoid a discussion about Dr. Cullen and my aunt. I knew that Anna already disliked Edie and Aunt Clara; I wasn't anxious to give her more reason to dislike them. We talked about my plans for the coming year and how I would prepare myself for medical school. We talked about Anna's recent acceptance into Vassar. And, she wanted to know about my new friendship with Dr. Cullen.

"Tell me about him," she said. "He seemed so mysterious at the garden party. No one could take their eyes off of him; he was almost too beautiful to be real." I noticed her blush as she said that and I smirked.

"He's not mysterious," I said. "But he is a very kind and generous man. He's given me several valuable books to help me prepare for medical school. They are older volumes than I will need when I go to school, but they have at least gotten me started in my research."

"What do you know about _him_, though?"

"Other then that he is a doctor who has taken an interest in my education?" I asked. "Nothing, really. I know that he must work very long and odd hours as he is never able to join our family for supper. He has a great devotion to his patients."

"Does he talk about them a lot?" she asked.

"Not the particulars, of course," I said quickly. "But when we spoke about the books he has given me, he went over case histories of some of his patients. I can tell that the patients he has lost are a great burden on him. He seems to remember every one."

"Why do you think he cares so much?" she asked, clearly fascinated.

"About his patients?" I asked.

"No, about your education," she said, rolling her eyes. "I should think it would be fairly apparent why he cares about his patients."

"Well," I said, uncomfortably. "He said that he felt I would make a good doctor. Also, I truly think that the loss of human life pains him. He had an unnaturally pained reaction to my aunt's revelation that it was my intention to join the army."

She nodded, seeming to understand.

"Your aunt, again?" she asked.

"When he mentioned that I would make a good doctor, she told him of my desire to become a soldier." I blushed at the memory of Carlisle's disappointment.

"Tell me her story, Edward. Tell me about your aunt and why your mother thinks you ought to forgive her. Because, I must say, I truly don't understand."

And so I told her the story that my mother told me, of how my aunt feared needing people too much and how she worked hard to ensure a proper future for Edie. I told her of how Aunt Clara's attitude had taken such a drastic turn since she first arrived and of my mother's explanation that made so much sense to me. Anna never really understood why I was able to forgive them. I think that, maybe, it came down to the fact that Aunt Clara was my family. Despite all of the faults that she had and the animosity that she created in me, she and I were bound together by blood. No matter what transgressions she might make, I think it was easier for me to forgive her because of that bond. I didn't know whether she felt that way about me, but I liked to think that it was there. I realized, in talking with Anna, that it didn't matter whether it was there for Aunt Clara. What mattered was that it was a part of me and the way I viewed my family.

**_A/N: So, were you worried that Anna and Edward wouldn't be friends any more? Nah, she's good for him. Consider her influence good grooming for Bella. :) I had a number of inquiries last chapter on how long I planned to make this story. I realize how difficult it can be to read a story in progress, never knowing when it's just going to abruptly end. And I thank you for bearing with me. If you're into this story, I have good news for you . . . I am too! I have every intention of making this a novel length story. I want to explore not only this "before the vampire" phase, but also what Edward's life was like as a newborn, meeting the Volturi for the first time, meeting Tanya and her family, going off on his own . . . etc. We know he did all of these things, but we have no idea how it happened. Iif there are things that you've wondered about, include it in your review or PM me. I have a story line, but I always have wiggle room. So stay tuned: there will be a lot more Edward coming your way. :) Oh, and reviews definately make my fingers type faster. It's a proven fact, actually. You can Google it. lol. Sorry, just watched Twilight again. That's one of my favorite lines. :) ~Jen_**


	9. August Confessions

August was almost over and nearly a full month had past since my conversation with Anna. So much had changed in that month, and yet my day to day life remained nearly the same. I sat in my room looking over the notes that Carlisle had sent me over the past month, thinking about the changes that this month had brought and the way that things were about to change even more.

Although my own mind was more at ease knowing that I need harbor no guilt in regards to Anna, I felt as though I was watching my family's relations falling apart around me. At the beginning of the month, Mother and Aunt Clara barely tolerated each other and the tension between them was stifling to everyone around them. My father seemed to be walking around the house on a tightrope, constantly trying to please both of the women in his life. He only succeeded in annoying both of them. For that reason, we often found ourselves in his study, hiding.

On the first night of August, as I was on my way to the study, I came across my mother and aunt sitting stiffly over their mending in the sitting room. As I passed the open door, something caught my attention enough to loiter just out of sight to hear their conversation. Would this be the thawing that we had been waiting for since the night of Carlisle's visit?

"Edie's been very quiet lately," Mother said tersely.

"Yes," Aunt Clara said. "She has always been a quiet, _respectful_ child."

"Quiet and respectful are two very different things, Clara."

"Oh?" my aunt responded. "I'm not sure I follow you. In my opinion, children ought to be seen and not heard, Elizabeth."

"And in _my_ opinion, children ought to be loved and not used, Clara," my mother said forcefully.

I could hear my aunt's sharp intake of breath. I barely kept myself from banging my head against the wall in frustration. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught my father listening as well. He had been drawn by the raised voices. We exchanged a quick glance and stood, tense and listening.

"I surely don't know what you mean by that," Aunt Clara said.

"Oh don't you, Clara?" Mother said. "And I'm sure that your conversation with Dr. Cullen the other night was about the recent advances in _medicine_."

Aunt Clara bristled, but my mother continued.

"How could you, Clara? Edie is not even sixteen years old! It doesn't matter how kind and generous Dr. Cullen is, he is far too old for her."

I could hear the soft padding of fabric being thrown into the mending box and the rattle of needles as they spilled.

"I had no idea of the man's age, Elizabeth," my aunt defended. "Tell me you thought he was above thirty. It's not possible!"

"The thought wouldn't even have crossed my mind. She's too young to be considering marriage to any man."

"You think so?" Clara asked hotly. "She is my daughter and I think I know better than you what she is ready for."

"I think your own desires are clouding your judgment."

"My _desire_ is for my daughter to be well taken care of. Why is that wrong?"

My mother paused and exhaled.

"It's not wrong," she admitted more gently. "I realize that I don't understand what you and Edie are going through."

There was another pause and some shifting as someone moved to pick up something that was dropped.

"Thank you for that, Elizabeth."

There was no response from my mother, but I thought that they might be done. I was about to walk away when my aunt began to speak again, the edge returning to her voice.

"It was fortuitous, however, that we had that private discussion before Edie could get herself attached to the idea of being with Dr. Cullen."

"That's true," Mother said, unease in her voice.

"It wouldn't do to upset her with the way that things _could_ turn out now."

I held my breath as I waited for my mother to reply, but could not hold it long enough. The room was literally dripping in the anticipation of what my mother might say. I saw my father's tense form waiting as well.

"Clara Boyer," she finally hissed. "I do not care what you wish to do with your life, but I promise you this: if any of your plans interfere with my son's future in _any_ way, you will have to answer to me."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Elizabeth, but I will _certainly_ bear it in mind."

They settled into a quiet iciness that filled the room. I could hear them begin to make the quiet noises of mending again as I walked away from my spot against the wall. I passed my father in the hallway and continued straight to the study where he closed the door behind us.

There was little to say about what we had witnessed. My father took the precaution of warning me not to speak to either my mother or aunt of what we had heard. He likened their anger to that of a wild grizzly should one of us admit to knowing of their fight. He also thought that the coming days would be less stressful in general now that Mother and Aunt Clara had aired their feelings.

* * *

While things were definitely not back to pre-Carlisle easiness the morning after their argument, Mother and Aunt Clara seemed to have reached some kind of truce with their biting words. There were subtle, yet noticeable, changes to the dynamics of the household. Although Mother no longer breakfasted with Aunt Clara and Edie, she stayed out in the kitchen doing the dishes while they ate and held a civil conversation with them. After dinner, the two ladies of the house would retire each evening to the sitting room to do mending or knitting and would engage in sparse conversation. They never broached the subject of Aunt Clara's interest in Carlisle again.

Unfortunately for me, that week was also the last time in August that Carlisle came over to discuss medical issues with me. He had made it a habit nearly three weeks in a row to come over in the mid-afternoon to discuss the latest shipment of textbooks that he would send home with Father. During our last visit, Mother had interrupted our meeting briefly to ask me if I could help her with the washing machine. Father had recently brought home the new Thor, an electric machine. Mother loved it, but it required a strong hand to get it situated so that it did not slop water over the sides and ruin the floors. Carlisle graciously excused me from our discussion, but when I returned only twenty minutes later, he told me that he regrettably could not stay longer. He promised to send more books and was off before I could question him further.

When Mother found out that Carlisle had left, she was immediately suspicious about what had driven him away.

"What did he say?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I insisted. "He said that he regretted having to leave abruptly and that he would send more books later this week."

"Was there anyone with him when you returned?" she asked.

"No," I said, surprised that I hadn't even considered that possibility. "He was alone and reading the same book he was reading when I left."

Mother stared hard at me and I realized rather quickly that she was trying to decide if I was lying to her. It shocked me that she might think such a thing of me. Obviously, given my experience at the draft office, I wasn't a stranger to going behind my parents' backs; however, my mother and I had a very open relationship. Her ability to see through me in an instant necessitated my honesty; anything less than that and I would have been constantly in trouble.

"Mother," I said calmly. "Perhaps he just needed to get back to the hospital? We had been speaking for nearly three-quarters of an hour when you needed my help. Maybe it was nothing at all and our time had just run out."

"You're probably right, Edward," she sighed. "I know how much these meetings mean to you. I don't want anyone or anything to stand in the way of your goals."

I nodded to her. "I am going to be a doctor, Mom," I said gently. "I'm not going to change my mind if Carlisle can't mentor me anymore."

I could see the tears welling in her eyes but she fought them back. It was difficult for her to even consider the possibility of me changing my mind, but I hoped that my promise would help to ease her tension a bit.

Carlisle made good on his word to send more books, although he did not make a repeat visit. The shipment of books that arrived in mid-August contained a note from him that was hastily written.

_Edward:_

_I am sorry that we haven't been able to meet; I do so enjoy our chats. However, I am spending more and more time either at the hospital or writing reports. Being close to the military installation, we are seeing more and more cases of this Spanish Influenza that is making headlines now. It is a scary disease that kills quickly. Be safe, Edward, and take precautions where you can. Please send my apologies to your dear family. I hope that we will see the end of this influx of illness soon and we can return to our previous routine._

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle_

I shared the note with my Mother whose face became a mask of horror almost immediately. She dropped the letter on top of the open newspaper that was proclaiming three more known cases of flu in the Army Barracks near to town. Father picked it up and read it quickly, glancing up at me.

"What do you think it all means?" I asked them. I hadn't expected them to be nearly as horrorstruck as they were.

"We--I--brought them here," my mother said dully, ignoring my question. "We have to tell them. We have to give them warning so that they can--"

My father hushed her and took her into his arms gently.

"Hush, Liz. It's ok, my love."

"It's not ok, Edward!" she said. "I brought them here to save them and look at what is happening! It's coming here after all."

The papers had been reporting for the last week that the flu was getting closer to Chicago. We hadn't known about any cases _in_ Chicago, but according to Carlisle the only patients he had that suffered from the illness were military men. However, his letter had proven that the disease was closer than we thought. I looked up and saw the stark figure of my aunt in the doorway watching my mother break down.

"Elizabeth," my aunt began as she walked into the room. "I know that we have had our differences. But you mustn't blame yourself for the course of the disease. It was in Scranton and it is now coming here."

"But, you could have gone somewhere else--" Mother began, but Aunt Clara held up her hand.

"We're with family here. Even though we don't say it often enough, we're glad to be here with you. It's safer here for us."

It took great effort for my aunt to force those words out. It went against everything that was in her to admit that she needed us in any way. My mother didn't make it more difficult on her by continuing to argue. Instead, she nodded her head and gestured to the table where the paper lay.

"We'll keep an eye on the situation," she said, the waver gone from her voice now. "We're lucky to have a friend on the inside that can warn us if things get bad. There will be time to make arrangements if need be."

My aunt glanced at the paper and then back to my mother.

"We'll face the threat together, if that is agreeable to you," she said.

Mother nodded and Father squeezed her shoulders. I think I could understand Aunt Clara's decision, even though it seemed to be at odds with her prior fear of the flu. Even though the fear was still there, her greatest fear had always been being alone. She hated to admit to it, but Aunt Clara was most afraid of being unprotected. Staying here, even though the flu might find her, was more agreeable than being cut off and alone.

* * *

Later that same week as I was pouring over the newest textbook that Carlisle had sent, Edie surprised me again. After our last disastrous meeting, I was surprised that she had returned.

"Edie," I said when she knocked lightly on my bedroom door. "Come in."

"Thank you," she said quietly and sat in the same desk chair. She was wringing her hands as she sat staring at my bedspread.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet for fear of an outburst similar to last time.

She shook her head vigorously and then frowned.

"Why do you think that Dr. Cullen never comes round any more?" she asked.

"I--" I stuttered and then paused, looking at her. "I think he's a very busy man."

"So you believe him?" she asked harshly.

"Of course," I said, perplexed. "I have no reason not to."

She laughed bitterly. "You weren't there that night," she said darkly.

I had learned enough from our prior conversation that I couldn't draw things out of her when she was like this. I was more likely to incite her anger than find out the true reason for her agitation.

"She was in rare form, that was for sure," Edie said. "There was just no stopping her! It was clear from the moment that you left he had no interest in her plans, but did she stop? No. She made him spell it out in front of me."

"Edie," I said when her lip began to quiver. "I'm sorry."

She nodded her head and took a deep breath. "It's not your fault. I know you had no part in all of this."

I waited for her. Stopping and really looking at her, it was easy to see when she had more that she needed to say and when she wanted me to say something.

"I know she means well, but she's never once asked me for my opinion, Edward. I mean, if I'm to be married to someone, oughtn't I to be consulted?"

I waited again, hoping that she would continue. But, she was waiting for me.

"Well," I said. "Have you spoken with her about your concerns? Maybe she just doesn't know how you feel."

"It wouldn't matter, Edward," she said, sadness filling her eyes. "She doesn't care for me, only what I can do for her."

"I don't believe that, Edie," I said quickly, leaning forward. "I think your mother cares for you very much. She might not show it the way that some others might, but you are her entire world."

"It's easy for you to say things like that," she said, sniffing. "_Both_ of your parents are so open with you; it's so obvious how they care for you. They'd never force _you_ into something that you didn't want. Look at how happy they were when you changed your mind about the army! They didn't want you to join, but they supported you! Mother would never do that for me."

She was right. I had never fully appreciated my parents' sacrifice with regards to my enlistment. They could have made it more difficult for me, but they chose to be supportive as long as I waited. I didn't know exactly what to say to Edie about this. Did I say that my parents had different concerns than Aunt Clara had for Edie? It didn't seem fair to say that it was because I was a boy and she was a girl; it seemed too simple.

"Aunt Clara is doing what she knows," I said uneasily. "I don't know that it is very easy for her, either, even though that may not be what you want to hear."

Edie stared at me for a moment and I was worried that she would storm out of the room on me again. But she just regarded me for a moment more and then shook her head again.

"Do you think he'll marry her?" she asked.

"Carlisle?" I asked. "You mean, do I think Carlisle will marry Aunt Clara?"

She nodded, a small curl of her lip evident as she did so.

I blew the air out through my nose and ran my fingers through my hair, wondering how to navigate _this_ question without angering her. I knew that even though Edie might despise her mother in this moment, Aunt Clara was still the only family that she had. I'd never win her friendship by insulting her mother.

"It's ok, Edward. I don't think she has a chance either," she said and giggled. I must have looked rather relieved. "Maybe that will make it sting less: if he rejects her too."

"Edie, I don't know that Carlisle will ever want a wife," I said, trying to ignore the reference to her feelings. "He's so very devoted to his patients."

"You're very impressed with him, aren't you?"

"Yes," I said. "I hope that someday I can be as caring and compassionate a doctor as he is."

"I'm sure you will be," she said, smiling. "And, thank you, Edward. I know that I am not the easiest person to get along with. I am sorry about that. Mother always instructed me not to get too close to people unless I could gain something from the relationship. I'm doubting that advice more and more."

"Edie, we gain something from every relationship we enter into," I said, feeling easier talking to her than I had ever felt. "I'm glad that I was able to help you in some way."

"I can see why you and Anna are such good friends," she said, looking down and blushing slightly. I was sure that would be the only apology that she would make for calling our friendship into question, but it was enough.

For the first time since my cousin and aunt arrived at our house, I felt somewhat at ease with their presence. Whatever had transpired between my mother and Aunt Clara the night of Carlisle's letter had ended the bitterness between them. Aunt Clara hadn't changed exactly, but Mother and she were able to coexist without bickering or living in icy silence. And, although around others Edie was still as disdainful of me as she had been her entire life, at least once a week she knocked softly on my bedroom door and came in for a quiet chat. I began to look forward to hearing from her. She was a complex person who had been so influenced by her mother as to lose some of herself. But one on one, Edie seemed to open up and regain some of who she really was. She was a fairly interesting person and I was glad to be able to call her a friend.

The papers continued to report steadily on both the war and the flu. The war was drawing to a close and the reports became more certain in their prediction of an Allied victory. The news about the flu was not as encouraging. The stories of people coming down with the illness kept getting closer and closer to home. No papers were reporting that Chicagoans had come down with it, but we knew from Carlisle that there were cases in the hospital now. He sent a small note home with father near the end of August, inquiring about meeting at the beginning of September.

_Edward,_

_We have finally gotten the schedule finalized and I am able to break away for some time. Would you mind meeting with me after my shift in the town center on Saturday a week? I will be able to meet you around three o'clock. We have so many new things to discuss, but I, unfortunately, have very little time to offer. I hope that this time will be acceptable to you. Please send my regards to your family._

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle_

I wondered how much of what we would discuss would come from the books and how much would revolve around the frighteningly more ominous newspapers.

**_A/N: Sheesh! You'd think being snowed in with over three feet of snow on the ground, it would have been prime time to bang out a few chapters, right? Apparently, my kids had other plans for the snow days. :) Anyway, I hope that this chapter is coherent and makes sense to all of you. As my beta can tell you, I had a major issue getting this timeline ironed out. We begin and end the chapter in the last week of August, just before Edward is going to meet Carlisle at the beginning of September. Edward is reminiscing through this chapter on the entire month of August. Things happen, but they are sort of spaced out and this seemed like the best way to illustrate that. I hope that it isn't too confusing. If you are familiar with the timeline of the Spanish Influenza, you will know that September is the start of it all for Chicago. A lot of action will begin in the coming chapters, but this transition chapter needed to happen before all of the drama starts. I've updated my profile with a few new links if you are interested in the history of the flu. These are the best sites that I found in my research and the ones that were the most visually exciting so I hope you enjoy them. They have pictures from 1918 showing what precautions people were taking and the types of posters and political cartoons that were cropping up during that time. I, of course, found them fascinating, but you don't need to check them out to understand the story. :) So, let me know what you think about the chapter and how you like the progression of the story. Because, as I'm sure you know, reviews are almost as good as marriage proposals from vampires. ;) ~Jen_**


	10. The Storm is Brewing

I was to meet with Carlisle on the Saturday before school began. On my way to the town center, I ran into Tom Flannery.

"Edward!" he called, loping across the street to my side. "I haven't seen you since we put up the posters. How have you been?"

"Good," I said smiling and shaking his hand. "And yourself?"

"Excellent," he replied. "_I_ don't have a new school year to look forward to, after all."

Tom, unlike Anna and me, had dropped out of school after the eighth grade. He had been working for his father ever since in the large shoe factory that he owned. His family was very well off but didn't think very highly of lofty educational goals, unlike my own family. I had envied him the freedom of being out of school when he had first left and had made the mistake of complaining about it to my father once. So, wanting to teach me the value of the education I was receiving, he arranged for me to work in the factory for three days over one of our breaks. I have never envied Tom since.

I rolled my eyes at him. "How are things at the factory?"

"Good, good," he said, regaining his composure. "Father had me in to help him lay off one of the workers last week. It was brutal, I tell you. I don't know how I'll do _that_ on a regular basis."

"Do you think that's something that will happen often?" I asked.

"Happens all the time," he said casually. "A place that size? We go through workers like water. Father says it gets easier, but I don't know."

He got quiet thinking about his experience and then his face brightened.

"Did you hear the rumors?" he asked. I just barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him again.

"Regarding?"

"The draft," he said, looking at me like I ought to know exactly what he was talking about.

"What about the draft? That won't affect us for another three years," I said.

"Ah, but there's where your wrong, my friend. I have it on good authority that they're going to lower the draft age to 18 soon. Seems that sometime in the next month the powers that be will be drafting anyone between the ages of 18 and 45. They must be hard up for enlistees."

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at him, mouth open, trying to process what I was hearing. If what he was saying was correct, I wouldn't have time to get my medical degree and enter the service as a doctor. I could be drafted immediately after my graduation. And then all of my mother's fears could become a reality.

"Edward," Tom said, shaking my shoulder lightly. "Are you alright, man? I thought for sure you'd be thrilled at the news. You like you just saw the ghost of my grandfather! What's the matter with you?"

"I--Well," I said, swallowing the nervous lump forming in the throat. "It's a shock, that's all."

"Right, but a good one for you," he said, smiling again. "You're mum can't argue when Uncle Sam comes calling, right?"

I smiled weakly and then nodded as we continued walking. I realized that we were getting closer to the town center and that I should try to part ways with Tom before we arrived there. I wasn't comfortable with revealing my plans to him yet, especially now that they might all have been in vain.

"Tom, I'm meeting a friend of my father's here in about fifteen minutes. I am sorry that I can't chat for longer."

"Not to worry, old friend," he said. "I'll meet you all after school on the first day, right? Same as always."

I smiled more genuinely then. Ever since he dropped out, Tom had been meeting our group after school on days when he could to walk home with us like in the old days. Always, he made it on the first day.

"I'll see you then, Tommy," I said, shaking his hand. I watched him as he ran across the street and disappeared around the corner. He was such an easy person to like.

I walked through the brick and stone arch that marked the entry into the green town center. All around, people were lounging in the square, enjoying the still balmy temperatures on this overcast but still lovely day. Carlisle was waiting for me at one of the wooden tables near the band shell that would be in use that evening. It was a quieter area of the park right now as it was fully covered by trees. Most of the people had thronged the area of the park that had some chance for sunlight peeking through.

"Edward," Carlisle said warmly, reaching out his hand to greet me.

"Carlisle," I said, working to keep my elation out of my voice. "It's good to see you again."

"And you as well," he said. "How is your lovely mother doing? And your relatives?"

He never paused or hesitated in the slightest with the reference to my aunt. Perhaps he had forgotten the embarrassing scene of a month and half ago.

"Everyone is well," I said. "Father says that he has been coming to see you more frequently now that the young man's trial is due to start any day."

"Yes, I've seen Edward at least once a week to discuss the case. How have you enjoyed the books?"

"They've been fantastic," I said truthfully. "I've even been able to use some of the knowledge from the books to help me better understand the newspapers. So much has been written about the flu in Philadelphia and the surrounding area."

His face became grim as he considered my words.

"How much do you know about the flu, Edward?" he asked.

"I know what I've read in the papers and what you mentioned in your note," I said. "It's clear that it is a killer, even for the young and healthy."

"It seems to pick out the young and the healthy first," he said, anger in his voice. I could tell that this bug was making him feel helpless.

"Do you have many patients with the flu right now?"

He frowned. I wasn't sure if he disliked the answer or the fact that I asked the question.

"Not many now, but we will," he said. He looked up at me suddenly, his eyes blazing. "I want you to be careful and remember the things that you've learned about the spread of germs, Edward. There's a very good chance the flu will come to Chicago. If and when it does, you need to be vigilant."

We talked nearly the rest of the time about the ways that we could keep ourselves safe in the event of an outbreak like what Philadelphia was experiencing. Carlisle had very few answers. He seemed to feel crippled by his inability to fix the problem. He kept coming back to the books that he had given me, but even those books held very few answers on treating a bug that moved as quickly as the Spanish flu seemed to.

We parted ways without me bringing up the draft at all. Part of it was that I was a coward. I didn't want to face his disappointment or fear any more than I wanted to face my mother's. But also, I could tell how distracted and tense he was by the impending flu. He had seemed to me more distracted than one person really ought to be and I couldn't conscience adding to that distraction. It didn't seem right to bombard him with another fear, one that in reality could be no more than a misheard rumor.

I doubted that Tom had misheard anything; he was nothing if not reliable and accurate. He enjoyed being able to relate stories to people, but he didn't make things up or relay things haphazardly. If he was telling me about the draft, I was certain that he had heard it from a reliable source. I thought then about my mother and how I would tell her. I considered letting her find out for herself when the paper inevitably published the story. It was a moment of weakness to be sure, but it was only for a moment. I steeled myself for the tears and the disappointment when I arrived home and broke the news.

I was surprised, however, when my mother took the news with a nod and steely silence. She looked up at me after a few moments and smiled, but there was barely any hint of warmth in her eyes as she did so.

"We'll meet all threats as they come, Edward," she said. "Not to worry."

Because my father was, unusually, at work on this Saturday, I didn't get to speak with him about my conversation with Mother. I went to bed troubled by her response, but in the morning had managed to forget the entire affair in anticipation for the coming school year.

* * *

I woke up early Monday morning, ready to begin a new year. Heading down to the kitchen, I wondered how Edie would be today. When she came to my room at the end of last week, she seemed happy that she would have the younger Kelly girl in her class at school, but she still appeared apprehensive, uptight. I had known the people that I was in school with for almost my entire life and I couldn't imagine the fear and embarrassment that Edie must be feeling knowing that she was going to have to start over.

Aunt Clara suggested that Edie drop out of school, but Edie just shook her head quickly and said that she would continue her education. She hadn't said as much to me, but I think she was afraid of the matches that her mother might make for her if she was no longer in school. In Aunt Clara's defense, she seemed pleased that Edie didn't want to abandon her education. Maybe there was more than one way to achieve Aunt Clara's goals of finding a profitable match for Edie; maybe they could both be happy.

"Good morning, son," Mother said brightly as I entered the kitchen. I was surprised to see Edie already sitting at the table pushing her oatmeal around the bowl and looking slightly pale.

"Good morning, Mother," I said. "Edie," I added more quietly.

She jumped a little at her name but then smiled weakly. I noted that she was dressed in a sturdy but attractive yellow dress. It complimented her dark hair nicely and I considered complimenting her, but I didn't want to draw any more attention to her appearance than need be. She seemed so uncomfortable already.

"Anna and the rest of your group will be here in about a half hour to walk over to the school," Mother said as she handed me my breakfast. "Do you have your summer-reading books ready?"

"All tied up and ready to go," I said, smiling.

"You're always so chipper at the beginning of term. I can't wait to see you before you start medical school!" Her face only betrayed a slight darkness as she said it; I was impressed. I had trouble thinking about medical school now without also worrying about the draft.

"Well, this year is better than most," I said. "It's the last one in the old building and then I can start new somewhere else."

I regretted the words immediately when I saw Edie's face pinch at the thought of "starting new." She smoothed out her face admirably and took a few bites of the now cold oatmeal, grimacing slightly.

"I spoke with Mrs. Kelly and she is going to send Grace along with Lillian this year," Mother said to me. "Grace will be in your year, Edie."

Edie nodded slightly and I could see just a hint of color come to her cheeks in the anticipation of having someone with whom she was friendly to walk with her. She and the Kelly girls had gotten somewhat close over the summer and I knew that it would be a comfort for Edie just to have Grace there as we walked to school.

The walk to school was full of chatter about teachers, subjects and the future. A new addition to our group was Bill Leeds, one of the boys that had helped to put up the war bond posters. It seemed that he and Lillian had begun courting over the summer. He was carrying her books for her when they arrived at our house. Edie looked him over once, flushed, and then fell into step with Grace.

"Aren't you going to carry Anna's books, Edward?" Lillian giggled behind her hand.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own books, Lillian," Anna replied sardonically. "Edie, do you know anything about your teacher?"

"Grace was just telling me," Edie sniffed, implying that Anna was interrupting. Anna blew some air out through her nose and then began to walk slightly faster.

Although I was beginning to understand her better, Edie still infuriated me. I knew why she was reacting to Anna this way now: Edie felt threatened by the new school. She felt like Anna had an advantage that she did not have and she resented that. In order to show her resentment, she attempted to make her uncomfortable. It was convoluted and counterproductive, but I knew better than to try to change her ways. I would try to apologize to Anna later, after Edie went her own way.

"So, Edward, did you tell Bill and Lillian about the change in your plans?" Anna asked sweetly.

I groaned slightly. She knew that I wasn't ready to talk about this. But what I wanted rarely mattered to Anna; she was too excited about my change of heart to care if it embarrassed me.

"No," I said tersely.

"Edward is going to medical school," she immediately. "He's been mentored by a brilliant young doctor throughout the summer and he's sure to get into one of the top schools for the fall session."

"Anna," I said through my teeth.

"What?" she asked. "If you're not going to tell them, I certainly am. The more people who know, the less likely you'll be to back out."

"I'm not going to back out," I said, louder than I meant to. "And I'm not having this argument with you."

"You two are ridiculous," Lillian said. "If you hadn't have been fighting like this since grade school, I'd think you were set to take his name, Anna."

Anna blushed at the mention of marriage.

"Anna has plans of her own," I said, trying to get back in her good graces. I didn't want to fight with her.

"Plans that don't include you, right Edward?" Bill said, shuffling closer to Lillian.

I chose not to answer, thinking that no matter what I said someone would manage to find fault with it. We walked the rest of the way in silence. I never did get a chance to apologize to Anna as she walked in to the girls' annex with the rest of the girls.

"What is it with you and Anna?" Bill asked when the girls walked away.

"What do you mean? She's my friend," I said.

"Yeah, but don't you like her?"

I looked at him, trying to make him see how silly that question really was but it was clear that Bill wasn't taking my subtle hint. I'll admit that his and Lillian's relationship made more sense in this day and age than Anna's and my friendship. But, was it really so difficult to understand that we were just friends?

"Of course I like her Bill, she is my _friend_. But I am not interested in her romantically."

He looked at me as though I were speaking in a foreign language. We entered the boys' building in silence, Bill still shaking his head.

School was, as my mother had pointed out this morning, something that I looked forward to each year. I enjoyed learning new things and I looked forward to the challenge of new subject matter. However, as much as I enjoyed reading as a pastime, the art of literary study and criticism was lost to me in the classroom. I enjoyed reading aloud from books when called upon, but I always seemed to take a different meaning from the text than I ought to, disappointing our teacher.

Mrs. Brown, our teacher, loved Literature so I was sure that the first subject we would tackle today would be an analysis of our summer reading, _Wuthering Heights_ by Emily Bronte. There had been talk amongst the boys in my year about this strange choice of book; some parents refused to let their sons read the book because of the more mature topics that were covered. Unfortunately, Mother loved the book and was eager for me to read it. Anna had gotten a hold of it on one visit and fell in love with it as well. She complained that their summer reading, _Anne of Green Gables_, was no where near as fascinating. They were both, however, disappointed when I didn't share their fervor for the book. Heathcliff annoyed me to no end.

"Good morning, boys," Mrs. Brown said as she walked into the room, her sing-song voice ringing throughout the classroom. "I hope your summer break was good and that you were reading, reading, reading!"

There were several groans around the room and a few stifled laughs. Mrs. Brown had been our teacher for the last three years so we were all very used to her sense of humor and her passion for reading. She considered it a personal victory when any of her boys read any book on their own.

"We will start out today with a discussion about the character of Heathcliff in Emily Bronte's fantastic tale, _Wuthering Heights_. Ah, now, Mr. Masen, would you be so kind as to read us the opening paragraph of the novel so that we can begin our talk of Mr. Heathcliff from the perspective of Lockwood?"

I nodded, opening my book, hoping that after reading I wouldn't be expected to offer my own conclusions. I began,

"1801. - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name."

I looked up upon finishing into the wistful eyes of my teacher. What _was_ it about Heathcliff that seemed to so attract the female sex?

"And, Mr. Masen," she said, clearing her throat. "Can you tell us what this paragraph foreshadows about our hero, Mr. Heathcliff?"

I cleared my throat and felt the red creeping out of my shirt collar and onto my cheeks. Given Mrs. Brown's reaction to the very mention of Mr. _Heathcliff's_ name, she wouldn't fancy my interpretation of him in the slightest.

"Well--" I hesitated. "Lockwood does not seem to have a good read on his landlord when he calls him a 'capital fellow.'"

I swallowed as Mrs. Brown's face turned down into a slight frown. "Explain," she said tersely.

"It just seems as though he isn't a 'capital fellow' in the slightest. He uses everything that he has to make Catherine's and Edgar's life miserable. That isn't noble or heroic; it is terrible and horrific. He is a monster."

Every face in the classroom was turned to look at me as Mrs. Brown stared at me. Some faces were sympathetic, but most were full of mirth at my embarrassment.

"That is, perhaps, _one_ way to look at our Mr. Heathcliff," Mrs. Brown said. "Can anyone think of _another_ way to view his actions? Ah, yes, Mr. Lewis?"

"Heathcliff was distraught at Catherine's dismissal and it drove him to the brink of insanity in his grief. That is why he treated her so poorly. It was really her own fault," he said, full of superiority.

"Ah yes, Catherine," Mrs. Brown said, the wistful tone back in her voice. "We cannot discuss Heathcliff without Catherine, or vice versa, can we?"

She turned and walked down the aisle and I dropped my head to the desk inaudibly. It may be a very long school year indeed.

* * *

"But you should have seen Edward this morning in class!" Bill Leeds was going on to my embarrassment as we walked home, regaling the crowd with my erudite descriptions of Heathcliff and Catherine. "He _argued_ with Mrs. Brown about whether the characters had souls or not!"

"Still haven't gotten past your disdain for Bronte's characters, have you Edward?" Anna asked teasingly.

"There's really nothing in either character that suggests that either one of them have a shred of decency in them," I muttered, annoyed that we were still talking about this.

"They have each other, that's something," she said.

"It's very little," I argued, only half-heartedly. "Since they don't even have that really."

Luckily, Tom strolled up to us at that moment.

"What?" he said casually. "Did you think you could walk so fast as to leave me behind?"

We all laughed and patted him on the back. The embarrassment gone, it was good to be among friends. It was the first time that I really thought about what next year would mean: new friends and a new way of life. I didn't dwell on that, however, and enjoyed the flow of conversation. We were purposefully walking up and down every street that we could in order to prolong our walk home.

"So, how was your first day, Edie?" Anna asked when there was a lull in the conversation. She doggedly tried to make a friendship there. And if Edie weren't so stubborn, she would have made her a good friend.

"Passable," Edie said tightly.

For the first time, I looked over at Tom Flannery and noticed that he was looking my cousin up and down greedily, the way that I had seen Bill Leeds eyeing Lillian on many occasions. For so many reasons, my stomach turned into one ball of roiling nerves. There was no way that this situation could possibly turn out to anyone's liking. But, leave it to Tom Flannery to bring a situation to a head.

"Miss. Edie," he said, almost reverantly. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure to make your acquaintance before. I'm Thomas Flannery."

Edie looked him up and down with a look of pure disdain. I could see how he would look to her. His clothes were dirty and a little ragged from his long days at the factory. His boots were scuffed and his hands were full of calluses. His hair was disheveled. And, he was seemingly uneducated. He seemed to be of a lower class than ours. Before she could say anything truly hurtful, I decided to come to his rescue, although I doubted anything I said would make her return his longing looks.

"Edie," I said. "Forgive my manners. This is our good friend, Tom Flannery. His father _owns_ the shoe factory at the edge of town. Tom is next in line to run the whole place, right my friend?"

He smiled at me, thanking me silently for my glowing recommendation to my cousin. I could only grimace at what Edie might make of his position as little more than a common worker. Owner or not, I couldn't imagine Aunt Clara deeming a factory worker a suitable match for her daughter. I could see the wheels turning in Edie's mind as she processed what I had said. I could see her eyes widen at the revelation that Tom stood to inherit a business, but her eyes were still mostly drawn to the minutes rips and tears in his shirt from the day. She could not reconcile the concepts of money and power with the hard work of factory life.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Thomas," Edie said quietly and without commitment. She did not offer her hand, but she also did not offer any acerbic comments to suggest disdain for Tom either. She surprised me with her careful handling of the situation.

* * *

The next couple of weeks were full as Edie and I relaxed into the drudgery of school work. It was the same at the beginning of every year; balancing the demands of my family life with the increasing workload the school laid upon us. This year was more trying because of our visitors. But, it wasn't long before Edie and I had gotten into a routine and were able to enjoy the evenings with the family.

She did not come to my room as often any more as she seemed to have made some good friends in school. By the third week in September, Edie was going over to the Kellys' one night a week for homework and dinner. She seemed happier for this change. She even seemed to be more comfortable in our group when we walked to and from school. She wasn't outwardly hostile to Anna any more although she was never openly welcoming of her friendship either. She was also quietly accepting of Tom's interest. Although she didn't encourage or return his gestures, she seemed to blossom under his ardant gazes. I thought that, perhaps, it did Edie a world of good to know that someone thought her desirable, even if that someone would never be acceptable to her mother.

On September 20th, one of the nights that Edie was over at the Kellys', father came home from a last minute meeting with Carlisle looking flushed and completely exhausted. I knew that he had been running himself to the ground trying to shore up all of the details for this case that would go to trial starting the first week in October. He had been visiting Carlisle at the hospital every week to go over the medical minutia of the case, the reasons why both he and Carlisle were convinced of the boy's innocence. When he came home that night, he dropped heavily into the chair behind his desk, barely taking notice of me as I sat in the chair opposite his completing my homework.

"Edward," Mother said as she followed him in. "You look just awful! What happened today?"

"Oh, it's nothing, dear," he said nasally. "I've just tired myself with this case. I have a few last minute details to go over here and then I will head to bed for"--he paused and then sneezed explosively--"excuse me, for the night." He shook his head, trying to clear it of the fog that the sneeze had created.

Mother looked at him worriedly. "You look as though you ought to eat something and go to bed right now," she said.

"Nonsense," he said, wiping his nose and placing the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I'll eat my soup right here and be done in no time."

He made an attempt at a smile and ended in another explosive sneeze. We all laughed, never once suspecting what those sneezes might mean.

**_A/N: Legal stuff first: Edward is reading the actual first paragraph from Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, so credit goes solely to Ms. Bronte for that paragraph. Now . . . I have to thank my beta, Emerald Star, for pointing me to the main direction of this chapter, the first day of school. As we were ironing out the timeline, she gently pointed out that I had neglected school completely and that seeing a human Edward in the classroom would be fascinating. I had to agree with her. I hope you like seeing a bit of Edward without the perfect answer for once. Also, we've come to the point in the story where I feel compelled to point out to you that, although you already know what is coming, the next several chapters are going to have a lot of sadness in them. One of the biggest hardships of writing this piece is creating so many amazing characters, like Edward Sr. and Elizabeth, and knowing that they aren't going to make it out alive. Not everyone that we've been introduced to is going to kick it in the flu, though, so stay with me as we grieve with Edward. Let me know what you are thinking; because, as you know, reviews are like the magic cure for the flu. ;) ~Jen_**


	11. Do Not Go Gently

The next morning was a Saturday, but we all woke up early due to the sounds of my father's coughing and sneezing ringing through the house. I sat in my room stewing for a while before I joined my mother in the kitchen. Something had been bothering me ever since I awoke to the sound of my father's deep coughing. I pulled out Carlisle's last letter to me, dated a week ago.

_Edward,_

_The newspapers will most likely break this story in the morning, so I don't feel compelled to hold back the true horror anymore. The flu has hit Chicago and it has hit hard. We have more than our share of patients here at the hospital, some in better condition than others, but all still suffering a great deal. Get the masks that they suggest, stay out of crowded, public places, and if someone seems sick, stay away from them. That is the best advice I can give to you. I will, necessarily, be at the hospital as much as I can be. Please, take care of yourself and call me if you have need._

_Sincerely,_

_Carlisle_

As he had predicted, the newspapers broke the story the next day, complete with dire warnings to obtain and wear masks. I had gone out and procured masks for the entire family. Throughout the week, more and more people began wearing them as it became clearer that the papers were not exaggerating things: people were, indeed, becoming sick.

When my father had come home from the hospital coughing, sneezing and flushed, it had never even occurred to me that it might be the flu. We had taken all of the precautions and done everything that Carlisle said. But now, in the morning light, it seemed like the only conclusion.

Mother told me over breakfast that Father had moved to his study sometime in the night because he could not get comfortable in bed. Mother refused to look at the newspaper this morning and, just glancing at the front page, I realized why. Plastered across the front page were the damning words: **Spanish Influenza Continues to Hit Chicago Hard and Fast, Hundreds Sick!**

I opened the paper and read the article quickly and with increasing dread. What had never occurred to me last night now seemed to be taunting me with its obviousness. I looked up to see my mother watching me with fear and tears in her eyes.

"Close it," she said, tersely.

The fear closed around my heart then because I knew that she suspected and was denying the possibility. I closed the paper never breaking our gaze.

"We won't speak of it," she said. "I won't hear of it, Edward, do you understand? He's just fine. He's overworked is all."

"Yes, mum," I said soothingly. "That's right. He's been to the hospital so much--"

I stopped when her face seemed to lose all of its color and her eyes widened. She shook her head and then her eyes cleared.

"You're right," she said shakily. "He's been working much too hard. I'm making him his favorite soup right now and he'll be back to himself by Monday."

She nodded the entire time she was speaking, obviously trying to convince herself. She jumped then, as the phone rang, and I sat in shock, pondering the possibility of what my father's sneezes might mean.

"Hello," my mother answered the phone, voice only shaking slightly. "Oh, Mr. Freedman, of course. -- No, it isn't too early at all. -- I see." Her face paled and she closed her eyes tightly at something that Mr. Freedman was saying. "-- Yes, Edward could certainly help you with that. -- 10:00, then? -- Yes, of course we have a mask. -- Alright. Thank you."

She hung up the phone and looked at me.

"Mr. Freedman would like your help in putting up some posters. You are to wear your mask and be at his store by 10:00," she looked down, pondering. "And on your way home, you can escort Edie back to the house from her sleepover at the Kellys'."

I looked at her questioningly, but nothing in her expression gave me room for comments or questions. I did everything I could to help her before I left, but I knew that it would be more helpful for her to be busy than to be sitting and thinking.

I tied the mask around my face and threw an extra one in my pocket for Edie should she have forgotten hers. I walked out of the house thinking about the flu bug and what it might look like underneath one of Carlisle's microscopes. I wondered if the cotton mesh that was now forcing the warm moisture of my breath back into my face would really keep out the tiny germs that might be floating around in the air or if it was just acting as a breeding ground, allowing them to multiply and grow like so many teeming maggots.

Thoughts of the flu swirled through my head as I walked and I kept thinking solely of the bug itself, visualizing it as different insects that I knew of. I knew that my mind was setting up road blocks to thinking of my father, but I allowed it to meander, not wanting to face the possible reality that my father was sick with this flu.

I passed by several people on the street, many of whom were wearing the same cotton masks as I was. All of them pulled away from me as I passed by, as they did to every other person that they passed on the street. I knew that the action was nothing personal; it was simply a reaction to the hysteria that the flu pandemic had caused.

I arrived at Mr. Freedman's store and was shocked to see it nearly empty. No one was inside except for Mr. Freedman and Tom Flannery. I had assumed, when he called me that morning, that Mr. Freedman would also enlist the help of Tom.

"Edward," Mr. Freedman said in his muffled voice from behind his own mask. "Thank you for being punctual. The posters are over here."

I wasn't surprised to see the now familiar figure of an older, angry looking man holding out a handkerchief to a young boy and telling him to cover his cough. These were the public health department's new catch-all posters which tried to teach everyone the correct way to protect against infection. Knowing what I now know about germs, I couldn't imagine what nasty infections were brewing on the handkerchiefs stuffed in pockets around the city. But, coughing into a handkerchief was much better than letting the bug fly free through the air.

"Hi, Edward," Tom said, looking at me over the mask. I couldn't see his mouth, but his smile crinkled the edges of his eyes and I smiled invisibly behind my own mask.

"Tom," I said, wrinkling my nose at the hot air wafting against my face. "It's good to see you."

"These masks are a nightmare, aren't they?" Tom said, pulling at his.

"Don't take them off!" Mr. Freedman shouted, knocking Tom's hand away from his mask.

The fear in his eyes was palpable and I now understood the fear that made people shrink away from each other on the street and hide behind flimsy masks. These motions we were all going through and the masks were like talismans to protect us from the evil flu. They may only have spotty success in doing so, but they were the only thing that we had. People like Mr. Freedman were clinging to those talismans like life preservers. It felt odd to me, knowing that it was possible my own father was sick with this flu, and not being as scared as Mr. Freedman seemed. I wondered if all of my reading had desensitized me to it.

"Take the posters, put them up, and then go straight home," he said in a strangled voice. "Don't come back here; I'm closing up for the day."

He thrust the posters into my hand and nudged the hammer and nails to Tom, clear in his actions that we were to leave now. He was not acting at all like himself and I wondered just how scared he was to be literally pushing us out the door. As I opened the door and Tom and I stepped out the door, I heard Mr. Freedman let out an explosively violent stream of coughing. It hit me then that, possibly, Mr. Freedman hadn't been afraid of the flu itself but of passing it along to us.

Tom and I put up the posters in near silence, discussing only how close together we wanted to hang the signs. We finished in under two hours and parted ways before the Kellys' house. I walked up to the door, unsure of whether I ought to take my mask off before knocking or leave it on. I decided that it wouldn't be rude to leave it on since more than half of the city was wearing them.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Kelly," I said when she answered the door. "I'm here to escort Edie home."

"Of course, Edward," she said smiling. "The girls are just upstairs gathering Edie's things. Won't you come in for a few minutes? And take off that mask! It must be so cumbersome."

It was a relief to have it off and she must have noticed my deep breath once it was off.

"Do you really think it is a threat to _us_?" she asked. I could tell her meaning just by the emphasis she placed on the last word.

"I don't think that the flu is able to discriminate, ma'am," I said softly.

She sniffed and turned her face into a pout.

"Well, I won't wear that out. No one I know has gotten sick with this thing and I just don't believe that _our_ kind will be terribly affected by it."

I sighed. The truth hurt too much so I didn't say anything further. I hoped with everything in me that when Edie and I returned home, Father would be well and Mrs. Kelly would be able to continue her delusion.

Edie came down the steps without acknowledging me in the slightest.

"Thank you ever so much for allowing me to stay the night with Grace and Lilly," Edie said politely.

"Oh, dear, it's our pleasure. We love to have you here!" Mrs. Kelly said, taking her into a warm hug. I saw how Edie's face lit up with Mrs. Kelly's affection. Thinking back, I had never seen Aunt Clara hug Edie in that manner.

"Edie," I said. "I brought you a mask for the way home."

Mrs. Kelly pouted again slightly, but Edie just sighed.

"I'm sure Mother would have a conniption should I walk in public without it," she said. "Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome," I smiled, pleased that she did not fight me. Her mother would have had a conniption, but more likely it would have been at me.

We walked some ways away from the Kelly house before Edie and I began talking. I began this time, needing to talk to someone.

"Father is sick," I said in rush. "He came home last night fevered and coughing and he woke up the same way."

Before I had spoken, I was calm and rational. With every word that I had spoken about his sickness, the fear clawed at my heart, making it beat faster and faster. By the time I raised my eyes to Edie's, my face was beet red and my palms were sweaty.

"You don't think--" she stuttered, her hand rising to her throat. "But, Mrs. Kelly said she didn't think the upper classes were getting this illness. It was just the poor people!"

"I don't know what it is, Edie," I said quietly. "Maybe he just has a little cold. He's been working long hours and not eating as well as he should."

Surprisingly, Edie put her hand on my shoulder tentatively. I looked at her with my eye-brow raised.

"You're probably right," she said slowly. "He works so awfully hard. He probably just wore himself out."

She squeezed my shoulder and then let her hand drop. It was the first physical contact that we had shared, but it was the perfect remedy for the anxiousness that had burst forth at my revelation. Her words were able to beat back my suspicions and allow me to regain my calm. We walked the rest of the way home in near silence, although both of us had quickened our pace just slightly.

Before we even entered the house, I could hear that my father's condition had worsened. His cough was loose and watery and he was wheezing between the bursts of coughing, desperately trying to catch his breath. Just as I reached the top step of the house, I heard him let out a deep moan that wracked my body with fear. I knew that this was no ordinary illness to bring my father to his knees so completely. Edie and I exchanged a horrified glance before I quickly opened the door and flew into the kitchen.

We found Aunt Clara in the kitchen working over the stove. She regarded us as we entered, wearing our masks, and I noticed that she was also wearing a mask. I thought it odd for her to be wearing it in the house; I couldn't wait to take mine off. As I reached to do so, she gasped and nearly dropped her spoon.

"Don't!" she hissed. "Leave it on, Edward."

I looked at her, noting the same fear in her eyes that I saw in Mr. Freedman's. She was sure of what was in this house, as sure as I had been, but she wasn't denying anything. I slowly lowered my hand and continued regarding her as she began stirring the soup once again.

"Your mother is with your father," she said, looking down at the soup. "He is still not well. She insists on caring for him here."

It was clear what my aunt thought of the decision. She felt my father belonged in the hospital. For once, I didn't disagree with her. Father sounded awful.

"I'm going to see him," I said.

"That's not wise," she said hastily.

"Be that as it may," I said tersely, "I'm going to see my father."

I left Edie with her mother and walked down the hallway to my mother and father's bedroom. I hadn't really been in this room very often of late. It felt odd to be approaching, knowing that they were in there together and that my father was in such obvious distress. I felt as though I was intruding in some way, although that was ridiculous.

The room smelled sick, even through the moist, muffling cotton covering my face. I noticed that Mother was not wearing a mask and I immediately wanted to get one to cover her face. I knew, of course, that she would never agree to wear it. Everything about her demeanor screamed of denial. Unfortunately, looking at my father right now, I didn't think either her devotion or her denial would be enough to save him.

His breathing was the worst thing about being close to him. It was liquid, like listening to a man breathing through water. He was not asleep but he was not conscious either. As I approached the bedside, I could feel the waves of heat rolling off of him. His face was puffed and tight with the fever and his eyes rolled restlessly under the lids. He mumbled, moving his cracked lips against each other, their papery scrapings the only sounds that he made.

He was dying. It was clear to me from the moment that I walked into the room. I still held out some hope that we could save him, though, if only I could convince Mother to take him to Carlisle. Perhaps it was my own denial. I could see for myself the signs that his body was giving out, struggling just to keep itself fed on oxygen, but still I thought that Carlisle could work some miracle and save him.

"Mother," I said gently, touching her shoulders.

She grimaced at the sight of my mask and then turned back to my father, stroking his hands.

"Mother," I said again, pleading. "Let me get the car ready."

"For what?" she asked, her voice climbing octaves in her grief. "He's fine," she said, standing up and turning on me. She was wild and keening in her desperation. I shrank away from her, not sure of what to do.

Suddenly, my father took a spasm of coughing again, red-tinged mucous foaming around his mouth as Mother neatly cleaned him up. As he settled back into the bed, still unconscious, he let out an unearthly moan, shuddering as he struggled to breathe. Mother's shoulders slumped and began to shake as she laid her head on his stomach. I wondered, briefly, how long she had stayed by his bedside.

"Get the car," she whispered. "I'll get his things together."

Aunt Clara nodded to me as I dashed past her and Edie to get the car. I knew she was glad that he would be getting help, even if she already suspected the inevitable. I walked the three blocks to the garage where the car was kept. As I started up the car, I ruefully acknowledged I might have missed my father's last lucid moments while I put up posters to protect the rest of the city. I broke down for a moment as I eased myself behind the wheel. Wasn't my first time driving supposed to be with my father at my side? I pulled myself together quickly, however, throwing the car in gear and easing it down the street to my house.

I parked the car just outside the house and ran up the steps. When I entered the house, my mother was all business again. She had gone next door to the Kirkbride house to ask Mr. Kirkbride for his assistance in getting Father into the car. Mr. Kirkbride stood just inside the kitchen, wearing a mask, with his eyes darting around the kitchen. It was clear that he was frightened at the prospect of facing the flu, if that's what this was. But, he held my parents in such high esteem that he was swallowing his fear to help us. I was more grateful than I could express to have his help; I hadn't thought about the logistics of getting him to the car.

"Edward is in the bedroom," Mother said tersely. "I've already collected his belongings. Clara, would you help me get them into the car while Edward and Mr. Kirkbride help my husband?"

Aunt Clara, bless her, never uttered a word of reproach. She just nodded and began gathering items from the kitchen table. Edie, also, began helping her mother, keeping her eyes down. It seemed we were all avoiding each other's eyes now.

I walked with Mr. Kirkbride to my father's bedside. I could see that Mother had dressed him in a warmer jacket and put socks and shoes on him. She had also, somehow, managed to get the duvet cover underneath him so that we could carry him in that way. Aunt Clara must have helped her; she was not a large enough woman to have moved him herself . . . unless it was her sheer will that had moved him.

Without speaking or looking at each other, we wrapped Father in the blanket and scooped him up, each of us taking a leg and placing his arms around our shoulders. He groaned as we picked him up and then his head began to loll slightly to the side.

As we carried him, he began to mutter more loudly, never making complete sense.

"Edward!" he muttered hoarsely. "Get me that book, son! No, Edward, don't climb that tree; Lizzy will kill me if you fall!"

He was talking to a younger me. I murmured to him as we carried him to the car. The brisk evening air hit him and he shivered and moaned slightly. I closed my eyes to his pain; it was too much to see my father this way. We got him into the car and I thanked Mr. Kirkbride. He mumbled "get well soon" to my father halfheartedly as my aunt closed the door behind my mother. I hopped in the car and headed towards the hospital.

"Carlisle knows that we are coming; I called him as soon as you left to get the car."

"That's good," I said, feeling calmer. "He'll know what to do for him."

She said nothing, looking straight ahead with her hands wrapped tightly together. I thought that she might be praying, but she was saying no words at all.

We arrived at the hospital and there was a nurse waiting for us with a wheel chair. An orderly took the keys to the car and told us that he would park it for us. I was hesitant at first, knowing how my father loathed letting others drive the car, but one look from my mother told me that I was not to argue.

I was about to attempt lifting my father by myself when the young nurse came around to the other side and got ready to help. I looked at her wryly, but she did not seem in the least deterred by my father's height. I was surprised by how much help she really was. We had him in the chair in no time which the nurse began to push immediately.

I had never been to the hospital before, so I had no reference for what it _should_ have looked like. However, I was sure that it was approaching its maximum capacity right now. There were people lining the hallway that we were walking down. The nurse was alternating between talking matter-of-factly with my mother and cooing at my father. I found her tone irritating and I knew that my father would have been put off by her demeanor had he been lucid. I wanted to lash out at her, tell her to show him some respect, but it didn't seem appropriate.

She put us in a room that had three other patients already inside. As she turned, she held out a mask for my mother which she looked at with disdain.

"Mrs. Masen," she said in her matter-of-fact voice. "This is for your protection as well as the rest of the patients and doctors. Your compliance is greatly appreciated."

She grabbed the mask from the young nurse and put it on her face, never breaking her gaze. There was ice in my mother's eyes as she stared at the nurse. Behind us, another orderly was arranging my father in a bed.

"Thank you," Mother said emotionlessly and turned around to face my father.

The nurse stood and stared after my mother, her mouth hidden behind her mask but I could tell that it was slightly askew. I knew that she felt as though my mother had just slapped her across the face.

"Mrs, Masen?" She stuttered. "There is some paperwork--"

Mother took the offered papers without turning around. But, I didn't have the mental focus to enjoy the haughty nurse's discomfort. I was totally focused on my father and how small he looked in the hospital bed.

At home, he looked as though he belonged there, as if he still commanded respect and retained his dignity. Here, all of that illusion had dissipated. He was just a sick man dying in a large hospital bed. The bed seemed to dwarf him completely, making him look almost childlike. It was nearly impossible for me to look at him in the bed. I knew it was ridiculous to place so much significance on it, but it just seemed to be making him so much _less_ that he was.

The nurse was still standing in the doorway when Carlisle walked into the room. Immediately, her eyes began to follow him as he walked to Mother's side. Still attempting to avoid looking at my father in the huge bed, I looked up at Carlisle's calm face, searching for reassurance and certainty.

"Elizabeth," he said quickly. "Thank you for calling me. I'm glad to be able to help."

"Thank you for seeing us," Mother said. "Edward seems to have come down with a severe cold."

Her voice broke on the last word and she dissolved into silent tears. Carlisle touched her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. She reached up and squeezed his hand which he pulled away as quickly as he could; he seemed anxious to begin examining my father. Mother's eyes never wavered from Carlisle as he began to work.

"Edward," he said softly, looking at my father. "It's Carlisle. I'm going to examine you now."

I sighed, relieved that Carlisle was showing my father the respect that he deserved. Although my father never offered any audible response, Carlisle continued a running commentary to him, explaining everything that he was doing. He checked his pulse and respiration, never writing anything down, and finished by listening to his breath sounds at which he frowned noticeably.

"Lynn," he said to the nurse. "I want blood drawn and a roentgenograph. Check the blood for white blood cell count and the level of albumin. I also want a sputum smear done. Give him a dose of Aspirin for his fever and a bolus of epinephrine to help with the cyanosis."

She wrote furiously on her chart as he spoke and exited the room as soon as he was done his speech. He turned to my mother.

"Elizabeth," he said gently. "We'll do everything we can for him. The epinephrine will make him more comfortable. You should give him as much water as he will take; fluids are extremely helpful."

He turned and started towards the door, then stopped, remembering something.

"Edward," he said, looking at me. "May I speak to you outside for a moment?"

I turned and looked toward my mother. She nodded, nearly imperceptibly, and I walked with him out the door. As soon as we were out of the door, he turned to me, his face full of sorrow and regret.

"He's dying," I said, surprised that my voice didn't waver.

"It won't be long, Edward," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"Will the medicine make him more comfortable?" I asked, afraid to ask what I really wanted to know.

"Yes," he said. "It will help him sleep more soundly."

I looked down, fighting with the tears. I didn't _want_ him to sleep more soundly, even if he needed it. If he was going to die anyway, I wanted him to wake up just one last time. When I looked up, Carlisle was looking at me with such sadness in his eyes, as if he somehow blamed himself for what was happening in that bed.

He reached up and grabbed my shoulders solidly, looking deep in my eyes with a burning wretchedness that I had never seen before.

"I wish that I could do more for him," Carlisle said.

"Will he--" I said, swallowing loudly and feeling the tears well up in my eyes. "Will he wake up before . . ." I couldn't finish.

"I can't say," Carlisle said, looking back at the floor.

"It's just," I said, knowing that I was being far too personal but unable to stop myself from speaking. "I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell him that I loved him this morning. And now, it might be too late."

I broke down then and began sobbing softly into my hands. Carlisle pulled me to him, allowing me to cry onto his shoulder. He seemed to be saying something but he was speaking so lowly and quickly that I could not hear him. I pulled away and looked up at him.

"He knows, Edward," Carlisle said. "He knows how much you love him. Go to your mother now."

I nodded my head and walked numbly into the room where my mother was waiting with open arms for me.

* * *

My father died just after twilight as the sun was setting the sky on fire. He went peacefully, thanks to the medicine that eased his breathing. He took one heavy breath and then he breathed no more. He never regained consciousness, but I did say all of the things I wanted to say. In the end, his face became peaceful, no longer struggling to breathe. He relaxed into death.

Mother went and opened the window when it was clear that it was over. The others in the room looked at her questioningly, but I knew what she was doing. She stood at the open window for nearly five minutes, ushering my father's soul to the outside air. It was superstitious and, some might say, pointless, but to her it was the last meaningful act that she could perform for her husband. She turned her face at one point as if watching him go and then closed the window, blowing a kiss to him as she did.

**_A/N: And we have our first casuality. I know that this was difficult to read, because it was surely one of the most difficult things to write that I've ever attempted. I've grown incredibly attached to Mr. and Mrs. Masen and seeing Mr. Masen pass on was horribly painful. A few notes on the chapter. The title, Do Not Go Gently, is a play on a Dylan Thomas poem, Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night. I would have loved to have Edward read it over his father's grave, but, alas, it wasn't written until the 1930s. "Roentgenograph" is the 1918 term for a chest x-ray. This chapter was *supposed* to include not only the death but the funeral as well. Edward had a lot more to say about everything than I expected (although i coudln't get him to say one word about the actual death scene, which is why it is written the way it is. It was, apparently, very private. Those of you who write will understand what I'm talking about. I'm not crazy, but my characters do talk to me). The next chapter will, hopefully, be up sooner rather than later, since it is already partially written. Let me know what you think . . . after you're done wiping your eyes. Reviews are like kisses in the wind. ~Jen_**

**_NEW POLL AND PROFILE FEATURES: I recently got asked to continue Midnight Sun . . . something I would do AFTER this project is finished. Vote in my poll if you would like to see that and I'll consider it. no promises (but, I'll admit, it intrigues me so I'll do it if you want me to). Also, this story just got accepted at Twilighted. Link is on my profile page. And, I now have a blog! It's totally cool, well, in my opinion. I've never done anything like this, so stop by and let me know! :)_**


	12. Do Not Go Gently, Part 2

After Father died, things at the hospital began to move as if in slow motion. The paperwork that Mother had put to the side in order to care for Father had been forgotten and now needed to be taken care of. She was in no condition to be handling the paperwork, however; after she kissed him goodbye, her tears became constant. For all of the tears that I had shed over my father as he lay dying, I was surprisingly detached now that I knew he was gone. When my mother closed the window, I found that my tears had dried up and I was able to focus once more.

"Mother," I said, taking the papers from her hand. "I can take care of that."

She simply nodded and then collapsed into my arms. I had never really thought of my parents' relationship before. I knew that they loved one another; it was obvious in the respect that they had for each other and the affection that they showed one another. But, I hadn't truly realized the depth of emotion that they had for each other. I had just taken that all for granted.

Seeing her now, incapable of consoling herself, I realized how desperately tied together they were. I couldn't imagine her without him. As she pulled away from me to return to his bedside and I watched her drifting through the room, I was reminded of an old poem that Mrs. Brown had had us read, something by John Donne. The lines about the fixed foot of a compass and the two souls that are one kept repeating over and over in my mind as I watched her weep over his body. I wondered if it were possible that I would ever love someone as much as they had loved each other. With only the itchy dryness of too much crying left in my eyes, I began the heartbreaking task of filling out my father's last set of paperwork.

After what seemed like hours of formalities, they had taken the body to the morgue for embalming and keeping until the wake. I couldn't think of it as my father any more. Superstitious as it might be, I thought of my father as having gone the moment my mother kissed his soul goodbye. The empty thing that was now in the morgue was no more him than the bed that had contained him. It no longer looked like him and it held nothing for me anymore. My father was gone, his soul flying up to heaven as we finished with all of these formalities.

"Now, we just need to settle the issue of preparing the body for interment," the kind clerk behind the counter was saying. "Our morgue will take care of the embalming that needs to be done, but we are also equipped to wash and prepare the body so that it will be ready for any service that you wish to hold--"

I was ready to accept any help that the man was offering; I couldn't imagine my mother being in any state to tend to the body before the wake. But, she surprised me by answering the man clearly and calmly.

"I will prepare the body before the wake," she said, her voice thick and nasal from her tears. "It is our custom to prepare our own."

I realized then that she wanted to prepare him in the tradition of her Irish ancestors and give him an Irish wake to send him off. But, had she ever prepared a body before? Did she know what was involved? I couldn't ask her these things as she seemed very sure of her decision. I didn't want to show her my doubt or concern.

"That is fine," the clerk said, sounding almost relieved at the offer. "You will let us know when the viewing and funeral are to take place and we will deliver your loved one to your house on that day."

Mother nodded, her tears slowing for the time being. The clerk then folded his hands over the paperwork and looked up at us.

"It is my unfortunate task now, to let you know some of the public health regulations that have been put in effect for the safety of the community. You may hold a funeral, but there may be no one except adult relatives and friends not to exceed ten persons in addition to the undertaker, undertaker's assistants, minister and necessary drivers. The funeral may not last longer than fifteen minutes. All in attendance must wear the cotton masks. Failure to comply with these regulations could result in both fines and incarceration."

He finished and looked up at us. I was nodding my head, understanding, of course, the need to curtail public gatherings. But my mother sat unmoving in the chair next to me; she sat staring at him.

"You'll stop me from giving my husband a proper wake?" she asked.

"As I said, the viewing and funeral are permitted so long as they conform to the previously stated guidelines."

"And who is it that will be ensuring my compliance?" she asked, venom in every word.

"I--" he said, losing his composure. "We--The Public Heath Department requests--and, frankly, demands--your cooperation in this matter, Mrs. Masen. With the number of people falling ill in this city, we are working on an honor code. But should you be found out to have flouted the rules, the repercussions might be very stiff indeed."

He was flustered and confused. I was sure that no one had ever even suggested that they wouldn't follow the directives he had been given. And, really, he was only the messenger. However, that was holding no significance to my mother at the moment. I realized that her grief had clouded all of her filters as well as her sense of what was inherently right. It felt odd to have to take care of her in this way, but I sensed that it was my duty to do the right thing in this situation. I thought that she would thank me later, but I couldn't be sure, given her present mood.

"Of course," I said smoothly to the gentleman, putting my hand under my mother's arm as I rose. "Thank you very much for your time. We will be certain to call you with the details of my father's service."

He smiled at me, happy to be dealing with someone who appeared to be more rational than my mother. She was looking up at me, not angry, but confused. It pained me to see her like this. She seemed lost and unsure of herself. I knew that she was done asking questions and that she was going to leave the rest to me, but that didn't calm me at all. I was not used to seeing my mother weak in any way.

We finished with the clerk and as we were turning to leave we saw Carlisle. He gave his condolences and his promise to try to make the wake and interment. I knew that it was useless to hope that he would be there; I could see the way the hospital was swelling with all of the people. He would be too busy to bother with us; so many other, still breathing, patients were in need of his care. I could not expect him to neglect his duty to them in order to honor the now still form of my father. But still, I wanted him there.

He was a connection to my father; one of his friends. And, because he had mentored me, he was an authority figure to me as well. I wouldn't think of him as a father-figure; that seemed a dishonor to my father. But I wanted the comfort of my mentor there with me as we laid my father to rest. I hoped that he would make good on his attempts, despite knowing that it was unlikely.

We drove home in silence, each of us musing to ourselves. I really didn't know where to begin speaking to her. She was so full of grief and I was ashamed at myself for feeling so detached. I felt as though I was somehow dishonoring my father by not feeling more grief the way my mother was. I couldn't feel anything at the moment. I looked around at the darkening sky, surprised that everything around me seemed to be continuing on in its normal fashion. But I didn't feel the grief consuming me the way I had expected it to. Maybe all of my sadness had run its course at the hospital; maybe I had nothing left. Perhaps, I just wasn't a very feeling person after all. Clearly, my mother was much more feeling than myself.

Our arrival at home was not unexpected. Carlisle had called Aunt Clara to inform her of her brother's passing. It was a very courteous thing to do and I could only hope that she was civil to him. What was unexpected was what was waiting for us at home. Aunt Clara and Edie had made us a full dinner that was waiting for us, laid out on the kitchen table. I was glad that they hadn't set up the dining room; my father's presence at the dinner table had always been so forceful and bold. I knew that would be difficult for my mother. This, however, was perfect. And when my mother walked in to see everything laid out, she dissolved into tears once again.

I was shocked at how deftly my aunt handled the situation. She came over carrying a handkerchief that she had in the side pocket of her dress and dabbed at my mother's cheeks. She whispered softly to her and she rubbed her arm. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but my mother was nodding her agreement.

And then I remembered. Aunt Clara was a widow . . . and now Mother was one as well. Something deep inside my stomach tensed at that thought. I don't know why that particular label seemed to bother me so viscerally. Thinking of my mother that way, as a widow, seemed so final.

I looked behind my aunt and saw Edie waiting in the wings, watching the exchange between her mother and her aunt and thought about how this would affect her. She certainly couldn't remember anything about her own father. Would my father's passing be more difficult for her because he the closest thing to a father figure that she had ever known? Or would it seem unimportant? I could see that the scene in front of her seemed to be affecting her. Her eyes were filled with tears as she watched Aunt Clara comfort Mother and soothe her.

"You must be famished," Aunt Clara was saying more loudly now. "I want you both to eat now."

Mother nodded, sniffling and wiping both her nose and eyes with the handkerchief.

"Won't you please join us?" she said tearfully.

"No," Aunt Clara said quickly, backing up and putting her arm around Edie. "We'll leave you two to eat your meal together."

"It's not an intrusion at all, Clara," Mother said kindly, reaching up and finally taking down her mask. Aunt Clara's eyes bulged and widened. "We're a family. We want you to eat with us."

"No," Aunt Clara said again, shaking her head more forcefully. "We'll eat when you're done."

Mother's eyes narrowed onto Aunt Clara's face, specifically the mask that was in place over her mouth and nose. But before Mother could say anything, Edie shrugged her mother's arm off of her shoulders and stepped forward.

"May I join you for supper, Aunt Elizabeth?" she said boldly, although her voice wavered slightly. "Please?"

Aunt Clara hissed in a deep breath, her eyes narrowing on the figure of Edie now closer to my mother's unprotected mouth and nose.

Mother's lips upturned in a pale imitation of her former smile.

"Of course, Edie," she said. "Please, sit down. Edward?"

I pulled out both Edie's and my mother's chairs and we took our places around the kitchen table. We had all now removed our masks so that we could now see each other's full faces. It was definitely a comfort not to have to guess at the expression on everyone's faces. We ate in silence which was made more uncomfortable by my aunt who stood in the corner watching every move we made.

I didn't really know what she was looking for. Maybe she was looking for an errant sniffle or perhaps a cough. Maybe she thought she would see the signs that one of us was becoming sick soon enough to pull Edie away before the germs reached her unprotected mouth. I didn't envy the worry that seemed to be veiling her entire face right now.

"Thank you for the meal, Clara," Mother said after we finished our meal. "It was delicious."

I nodded my agreement and waited for what seemed to be coming next. Mother was busily beginning to clear the dishes from the table when Aunt Clara finally burst forward.

"Edie," she called. "Mask. Now."

Edie complied without hesitation. Mother looked on without comment. I was a little surprised at her reaction to the masks; it had been her idea in the first place to go and obtain our family supply of the gauzy material. It seemed to me that she wasn't acting completely rationally about the masks, but I was loathe to argue with her.

"Elizabeth," Clara said.

"What, Clara?" she said wearily.

"What are your plans for the interment?"

Mother dropped the plate that she was washing and it clattered into the sink. I came over behind my mother, taking the plates and rag from her.

"He'll have a proper wake," she said decidedly. She looked over at me, challenging.

"You can't be serious!" Aunt Clara burst out. "We can't have hoards of people over here all day long! The risk? You don't know what you're saying!"

"I'll thank you not to speak to me in such a way, Clara," Mother said icily. It was a voice I didn't recognize, hardened as it was in her grief. "I will do just that for my husband. It's what he would have wanted."

"Edward," Aunt Clara pleaded with me. "Talk some sense into your mother! Explain to her the risk!"

I put the dishes down and turned off the water, never raising my eyes. I braced my hands on either side of the sink as I thought about my options. Aunt Clara and the Health Department were right, after all. It was a serious risk, not only to our family, but to our dear friends, to bring them into this house for an extended period of time. They could become ill or they could bring with them their own illnesses making more of us sick. But at the same time, didn't my father deserve a real memorial service? Shouldn't he get an outpouring from the community that he had served for so many years?

"Mother," I said, deciding as I spoke. "Would Father want more people to get sick?"

Her eyes were blazing as she looked at me, ready to fight with me, argue with me. I met her gaze and held it, willing her to look past her grief and see the logic in my words. If Father were here now, he would know what to say. I was so unequipped for this.

But something got through to her, be it my words or my gaze, and the fire died down in her eyes. I could start to see her coming back to us.

"That doesn't mean that we can't give him a beautiful wake, Mom," I said gently, reaching out for her. "We just need to take the regulations into account as we plan."

She nodded, taking my hand, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"What do you think is best, Edward?" she asked helplessly.

"I think it's fine if we do a small service here and go with him to be interred. Perhaps we ought to forgo the usual festivities and food, though."

Aunt Clara was nodding in the background, pleased that I was able to talk her down. I was fairly pleased with myself as well. She had seemed so determined and unreasonable before. I thought, perhaps, my father would have been proud as well. But thoughts such as those hurt to the core and so I pushed them away, maintaining my distance and detachment.

"I can still prepare him?" she asked timidly.

Aunt Clara took a sharp intake of breath, but on this I wouldn't be swayed.

"Of course," I said. "We wouldn't have it any other way."

She nodded and there was an echo of her smile on her lips now. I wondered, fleetingly, if I would ever see her smile her old smile again. Again, I pushed those thoughts away, unwilling to break down in front of my family right now.

Mother called both Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Kirkbride after we spoke, letting them know the news and arranging for their help with preparing the body and the house. Their help was given easily; I could tell by the smooth lines of my mother's face that neither of the women betrayed any fear when Mother revealed Father's cause of death. They were all too happy to help us.

I made the call to the local minister and cemetery, arranging for interment on Monday evening. The minister revealed to me that they were being encouraged by city officials as well and the public health department to make arrangements as quickly as possible to alleviate the strain on the city morgues. I sighed silently and agreed readily to the quick interment. It seemed to me to be the best solution for our family as well. I also made the call to the hospital, informing them of the date and time for my father's service.

I went to bed that night weary and dry as a husk. It didn't escape my notice that without any ado or fanfare, I had stepped into the role of protector and spokesman for the family. I refused to call myself the head of the household. My head hit the pillow and I was asleep in no time, my head filled with fretful dreams and sudden, fearful waking. I realized that my fear was stemming from the new role that I was taking on in my family; it was more responsibility than I had ever had and I was unsure if I was handling things the way I ought to. I tossed and turned through the night and awoke with the first light to begin the process of readying the house for mourning.

Mother was up before me, her hair loosely tied back and her dress a deep grey color. When I came upon her in the sitting room that morning holding a letter in her hand, she looked like a different woman than I had ever seen before. She looked both young and old at the same time. She had been crying, that was clear. But she was filled with a different sadness than she had been yesterday. I realized, seeing the color of her clothes, that she was in mourning.

"This is the first letter that your father ever sent me," she said, never looking up. I walked into the room and sat on the ottoman near her feet, never saying a word. "He had met my family when we traveled to Chicago one Christmas. He was so handsome and nice. When he found out that we were from Indianapolis and only visiting the city, he had asked for my address so that he might write to me. He wrote faithfully, once every week, for a year, courting me through letters. His last letter, he addressed to my father, asking him for his permission to court me in person. He traveled all the way to Indianapolis and obtained an internship at a law firm there in order to be close to me. We courted for six months but it was only for show. I knew from this first letter that he was the man I would marry."

I had never heard the story of their love affair before. I ought to have been embarrassed, but hearing about their love filled me with a sort of warmth and happiness. They had known such happiness together, it was impossible for me to be embarrassed or uncomfortable hearing about it.

"You were born only a year after we were married," she said squeezing my hand. "He was so proud of you, Edward. Always. He would be so proud of the way you handled yourself yesterday. You made me proud."

The tears were falling freely down her face as she spoke but I could tell that she didn't need or want me to say anything to comfort her. She needed to say these things to me and didn't need any input from me. She let out a shuddering sigh.

"Your father wouldn't want us to be miserable. We must be strong for him, Edward. The next two days will be the hardest, love, but I know that we can do it with each other," she said while stroking my hair. I could almost see her pulling herself together as she was speaking, becoming more and more the woman that I knew. "Come. Our friends will be here soon to prepare the house."

Mrs. Kirkbride arrived first. She knocked and entered the back door wearing dark grey clothes, her mask and a look of determination. I realized then that most people didn't do what we were about to do anymore. More and more people were holding viewings at funeral homes. It was only the very traditional Irish that still held wakes in their homes. But, this was appropriate for my mother and father; it was what he would want.

Anna and Mrs. Scott came just after Mrs. Kirkbride, both wearing dark colors and masks. When they entered the house, they both walked over to Mother and me and enveloped us in hugs. Mother began weeping onto Mrs. Scott's shoulder and she hushed her softly. When she lifted her head, Mother's face was clear again, ready for the day's work.

"Let's get started on the mirrors, shall we?" Mrs. Scott said brightly.

I couldn't believe that I had ever harbored ill-will towards her for attempting to make Anna be friends with Edie. She seemed to know exactly what to do and how to accomplish the things that needed to be done. I knew that, without really verbalizing it, Mother was relying on her to complete the preparations of the house. We covered all of the mirrors and hung the brown gauzy drape over the doorframe.

After about an hour of work, Aunt Clara and Edie walked in the back door; I hadn't even known they were gone. They carried with them bundles of flowers from the fresh market at the train station. They must have left before we had even gotten up to arrive when the market opened its doors at 7 AM.

"I hope I wasn't being too forward," Aunt Clara said as she laid her purchases on the kitchen table. "I just assumed with all of the preparations you would be doing today and tomorrow, it was the least that we could do."

"Thank you," Mother said thickly, looking over the flowers that filled the kitchen table.

There was little to be said by anyone now; we all worked tirelessly to dust and rearrange the house in preparation for the service tomorrow. Mr. Kirkbride came over around noon to help me move the dining room table into the sitting room in preparation for the viewing. Mother pulled her best white table cloth out of the closet and draped it over the table. Anna and I brought in vases filled with flowers to place on either end of the table along with several tapers. We stood back, looking at the room and everything seemed to hit me at once.

Tomorrow at this time my father's body would be laid in this room awaiting our final send off. We would all walk him to the cemetery where they would inter him in the family crypt and he would grow cold and --. It was too much for me.

"Mother," I said, my voice a strangled whisper. "May I go out to the back yard?"

"Of course," she said, not meeting my eyes.

I was already in motion and I bolted out the back door to the sanctuary of the back yard. I looked around and I could almost see my father mingling among the guests at our garden party. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them to see my father and myself playing croquet one summer with Mother. I rubbed my eyes then and opened them to see my father and myself planting sunflowers for my mother.

"Ugh!" I cried out in despair. Surely this wasn't the show of strength and stoicism that Father would be proud of. I could feel the tears pricking in the back just as I felt small hands on my shoulders. I violently wiped at my face, loathe to let Mother see me like this.

"It's ok," Anna said, dropping her hands. I whirled around, looking at her in horror.

"Anna!" I said. "What--what are you doing here?"

"Do you want me to go? I'm sorry. I didn't want you to be alone right now."

She turned to leave and I reached out and touched her arm.

"Would you sit with me?" I asked. "It's just--I don't know that I have much to say."

"That's ok too, Edward," she said, walking with me over to the sunflowers. "You don't have to say anything."

We sat for a long time and I did talk. I told her about how Father and I planted these sunflowers every year for Mother. I told her about the things my mother told me this morning. I even told her that I was afraid to be sad right now.

"Why?" she asked. It was the first time she had interrupted me.

"Mother said that Father wouldn't want us to be sad; she said that he would have been proud of how strong I was yesterday and--" my voice hitched in a sob. "I don't feel strong right now but I don't want to let him down."

"You're not letting him down by grieving for him, Edward," she said softly. "It's ok to cry. I won't tell."

I cried then, sobbing into my hand that I missed him and I didn't know what I would do once he was buried and gone. She rubbed my back and never said anything. I cried myself out again and, when I began to feel more in control of myself, we stood to go inside. No one had come looking for us and I was glad that no one except Anna had seen me that way. I just didn't think that anyone would understand those raw emotions.

Everyone left just after supper time. Because of many generous donations from various former and present clients, we had nothing to prepare and were able to feed everyone that had come to help. We retired to bed early, knowing that tomorrow would be a long day.

* * *

Father's body arrived just after two in the afternoon. The Scott family and the Kirkbride family were already at the house waiting when the mortician brought the body to us. The women got up without a word and began preparing the room for father's viewing. Mother rose as well, ready to prepare his body. She accepted no help in this matter, but from where I was sitting I could see her as she made her ministrations.

She wept as she looked at him in his open pine box, took a deep breath, and then began laying out the tools for her work. First, she carefully smoothed his hair with a brush doused in his favorite cologne. She smiled as she made his hair into his signature style. Using a washcloth and soapy water, she gently washed his exposed areas and then dried them gently with a towel. She then covered his body with a gauzy white material that would be his shroud. She then sat with him until the people began to come.

The service was short and sweet. I had known that Mother wanted me to read something and I had known from the time that I saw Mother weeping over his body at the hospital what I would read. I held the book of Donne's poetry to my breast as I walked to the front of the sitting room. Gathered around the room were our closest friends. I looked up and met Carlisle's eyes and I was very thankful for his presence here today.

"I want to thank you all for coming today. It means so much to Mother and me to have our friends and our family here with us to bid Father farewell. Mother asked me to read something and I would like to share a poem with you in honor of my father:

**A Valediction Forbidding Mourning**

By John Donne

As virtuous men pass mildly away,

And whisper to their souls to go,

Whilst some of their sad friends do say,

"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

So let us melt, and make no noise,

No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;

'Twere profanation of our joys

To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears;

Men reckon what it did, and meant;

But trepidation of the spheres,

Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love

--Whose soul is sense--cannot admit

Of absence, 'cause it doth remove

The thing which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined,

That ourselves know not what it is,

Inter-assured of the mind,

Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,

Though I must go, endure not yet

A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so

As stiff twin compasses are two;

They soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show

To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,

Yet, when the other far doth roam,

It leans, and hearkens after it,

And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

Like th' other foot, obliquely run;

Thy firmness makes my circle just,

And makes me end where I begun."

I took my seat again next to my mother. The minister finished with his short prayers. The mortician and his assistant covered the box again and then myself and five other men picked my father's casket up and began the slow processional to the cemetery.

Many of our guests left us after the short service. The Scott family and the Kirkbride family, whose fathers helped me to carry my father, trailed behind us as we walked. I was dimly aware of Carlisle helping to carry the casket as well. It was taking everything in me not to break down in the middle of the street.

We didn't have very far to walk; the cemetery was only seven short blocks from our house. When we arrived at the cemetery, there was a man waiting for us to show us the way to family crypt. I noticed as we walked through the plots that ours was not the only interment today. I wondered if the same illness that had stolen my father had also taken the other people.

When we arrived at the crypt, there seemed to be mountains of flowers surrounding it. The door was open and we carried my father inside and rested him on one of the shelves. I bit my lip as I turned to leave. Even though I knew that he was no longer in the body within that box, the finality of leaving him in that cold, dark room was nearly unbearable.

We exited and the minister stepped forward to say some final words. I put my arm around my mother who buried her face in my jacket. It seemed that this finality had touched her as well. When the minister said his final "amen" I felt the tears that had been stinging my eyes begin to fall softly down my cheeks and well up into my mask. I did not try to stop them; I let them fall. The cemetery director came then and locked the door of our family crypt, signaling the end of our small gathering.

People began to dissipate quickly. I saw Carlisle rush away after the final prayers, probably eager to get back to the hospital that needed him so desperately right now. I turned my mother around as a light rain began to pour down and walked her back to our house in silence, unsure of what would come next.

**_A/N: So, this was supposed to be a shorter chapter . . . it turns out I don't do short! lol. I think this was an incredibly important chapter in the grand scheme of things. Although Edward doesn't remember his father very well after he is changed, it's my opinion that he shaped him greatly. His death was a difficult time for him to say the very least. The poem that I chose, although written for a lover who was leaving, seemed so appropriate for Edward Sr. and Elizabeth. I thought that Edward would have wanted to give that to his mother: his understanding of her feelings. I apologize for the overwhelming saddness; I know that these are difficult chapters to get through. But, I promise, that they will be worth it when we get to see Edward after the change. :) Please let me know what you think of this. Reviews are like being courted by Edward. Oh! In case you missed it at the end of last chapter. I have a poll posted on my profile page that I would love your input in. Also, there are a few new links on the profile page and one of them is to my brand new blog! ;) ~Jen_**


	13. The Eye of the Storm

As we were walking back to the house after Father's funeral, everything around us seemed surreal. Fewer people than usual were on the streets due to the fear that had gripped the city, but we still passed the occasional person. Everyone was wearing the masks now, even the young children who we passed playing jump rope outside their house. They were singing a little song as they jumped that, after I heard the words, I hoped my mother did not listen to: "_I had a little bird, / Its name was Enza. / I opened the window, / and in-flu-enza._" From the way she stiffened as we passed them, I knew that she had both heard and understood.

When we arrived back at the house, the four of us entered the house and were greeted with only silence. All of the mourners had gone along with our good and helpful friends. I had been expecting it; I knew that for a while the absence of my father would be louder than his presence had ever been. But I hadn't expected it to be so palpable and so overwhelming from the very beginning. Having a picture in my head of where we had left his body did not help me get past this. He wasn't here and I knew where he was. It was morbid and terrible, but I couldn't get myself past thinking of him inside the locked crypt.

Mother let out a deep and shuddering sigh.

"Would you all mind if I retired for the evening?" she asked shakily. "I find that I'm not terribly hungry."

"But, you must eat," Aunt Clara insisted. "You can't let yourself get worn down, Elizabeth."

"I may have something later, Clara," she said wearily, removing her mask. "But I'm not up to a family dinner this evening."

"That's fine, Mother," I said softly. "I think we all might prefer to fend for ourselves this evening."

She nodded and walked numbly down the hall. Aunt Clara turned and looked harshly at me.

"You're not doing her any favors by letting her wallow, Edward," she said.

"I cannot force her to snap out of this, Aunt Clara," I said. "She's going to deal with this in her own way, regardless of what I have to say about it."

"You could fight more," she said.

"And what, exactly, would that accomplish?"

"It--" she hemmed. "She--You should at least try!"

"I am trying!" I burst out, more harshly than I had intended. "She is my mother. I can't make her do things that she doesn't want to do!"

I was fuming, my breath coming in deep gasps as I fought to maintain my control. The last person that I wanted to lose control of my emotions in front of was my aunt; I couldn't help thinking that she might use it against me somehow.

"You're the man of the house now, Edward," she said coldly. "You need to get used to that and stop throwing tantrums like a child. If you don't get her in line you may lose her like you lost your father."

She walked down the hallway quietly and took the stairs. Edie was left staring at me as I continued to breathe hard and fast. My chest was tight and burning angrily. I couldn't decide whether I needed to scream or cry. Neither one seemed to be appropriate since I had just been told not to have tantrums. But I felt I must do something so I continued to breathe hard and fast, my cheeks burning.

"Edward," she said softly, tentatively walking over to me.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, willing myself not to cry.

"Please," she said. "Look at me."

I heaved a last breath and blinked back the stinging in my eyes. When I opened my eyes, Edie was standing in front of me, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Our recent truce was so new that I was sure she felt unsure of how to comfort me.

"That was very unfeeling of my mother," she said. "But you must understand that she means well, although she can be horrible."

I snorted and raked out the kitchen chair, sitting on it backwards and dropping my head onto my arms.

"I'm only seventeen, Edie," I said when I was sure my voice was under control. "I don't know how to do this."

I heard her pull out the kitchen chair and sit down across from me. She was fiddling with the wrapping on something. When I looked up, I realized that she was unwrapping some of the food that had been delivered and preparing two plates.

"Mother was only 22 when Father passed away," she said simply. "I know that I often complain about her, but she made the best out of what she was given. That _is_ what she's asking you to do."

She put a plate in front of me with bread, cheese, and an apple on it.

"It's not much, but you should eat," she said looking down.

"Thank you," I said.

"It was nothing, Edward," she said. "Everything was already prepared."

"Not for the food," I said, reaching out and taking her hand. "For understanding."

"Oh," she said, smiling slightly. "Well, you're welcome."

We ate silently and the pain in my chest began to subside. I sat thinking over all of the details that were left to be handled. I could feel the panic rising as I ticked them off in my head: _his will, the car, the house, his insurance_ . . . I didn't even know what else I might be missing. When Edie noticed my breathing becoming more erratic, she would reach over and put her hand on my forearm and grab the attention of my eyes. I'd focus on her breathing and I'd begin to calm down.

Clinically, I remembered reading the case history of several women hospitalized with "fits of fancy." They would be admitted for erratic heartbeat and uneven breathing. I nearly choked on my milk when I thought of Carlisle's face should I present for such a feminine complaint. Edie looked at me questioningly, but I brushed it off and continued thinking.

"I can do this," I said, as I finished my dinner. I stood up and took both of the plates over to the sink.

"Of course you can," she said. "Did you really think your mother would leave it to you if you were incapable?"

I turned around and looked at her, my head cocked.

"Oh, Edward," she said, laughing a little. "Aunt Elizabeth is devastated to be sure. But she is nothing if not practical. She would never allow herself this time of utter uselessness if she believed that things would not be taken care of. She trusts you."

I considered that. Mother was a very practical woman; she had always been capable of taking care of everything, even when Father had traveled. But did that mean that she could swallow her grief and just carry on if she thought that I couldn't handle the responsibility? Edie thought just that, but did I? I considered for several minutes before deciding that Edie was most likely right. Because I was able to swallow my own grief at the hospital, she felt comfortable attending to herself.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I _could_ do this. Mother thought so, so it must be the truth. I smiled at Edie and she returned my smile, pleased to see me back to myself.

"You know you don't have to do it alone," she said then. "Mother will be happy to help--"

She trailed off, thinking about what help her mother could offer. I looked at her with my brow cocked and we both dissolved into giggles brought on by a day of too much emotion.

"Perhaps it _is_ better if you handle things," she said, gasping for breath.

"Indeed," I said, wiping my eyes and heading out of the kitchen toward the stairs. Although it was early, I found that I was quite ready for this day to be over.

* * *

Grief was a funny creature. I found that it crept upon me in the strangest times. Like when I was laughing with Edie this evening, I missed him more acutely than I had since he had died two days ago. I felt the ache start in my heart, but it radiated out until even my fingers ached with the loss.

I tossed and turned in my bed for a couple of hours and then decided to go down to Father's study and read for a while. I walked quietly through the sleeping house deliberately avoiding looking into the sitting room which was still set up for the wake. As I approached the study, I began to realize why I had come here and it wasn't to read.

I flipped on the light switch and saw everything the way he had left it the night he got sick. There were papers laid out on the desk, stacked in neat piles. His pen was capped and lying to the side. Forgotten and pushed off to the side, I saw his empty tea cup; Mother and the other ladies must not have entered the study at all when they were cleaning. I walked over to the desk, ready to collect the dishes when something caught my eye and nearly knocked the wind out of my chest.

I knew that Father had kept pictures on his desk, but I had never come around to his side in order to view them. When I reached for the cup, I saw them for the first time. Staring up at me were my parents, though much younger than I remembered them. Father's hand rested on Mother's shoulder as he stood behind her seated form. They looked out at the camera in their formal pose, their faces stark and unsmiling. I recognized this for what it must have been: their wedding portrait. Mother had small flowers in her hair and, though there were no colors, I could almost make out the slight blush of happiness in both of their cheeks.

Just behind that picture was the picture of a sleeping baby made up for his christening day. Arrayed in a bright christening dress, I looked as though I could have been dreaming the most pleasant dream. Just off to the edge of the portrait, I saw a set of fingers trying to pull out of the frame, but the flash had caught them. I was sure I had seen a nearly identical picture in the book my mother had compiled from my infancy, but without the fingers in the corner. I recognized the plain band around the fourth finger as my father's wedding band. I wondered at the story behind his hands being in the picture and why he had chosen this portrait to display on his desk.

As I sat in my father's large chair and looked around the desk, I was struck by how different everything looked from this perspective. I noticed a miniature portrait in middle of the desk that nearly broke my heart. In it was a studio portrait of our family, taken only a year ago. Mother sat in a chair and I kneeled to her side. Father was standing behind us, his hands on both of our shoulders. I had a strange look on my face, as though I was hiding some secret. I held it in my hands and the picture began to shake as I looked at it.

"Edward, what are you doing?" a thick voice asked from the doorway.

When I looked up, I saw the blurry figure of my mother in her nightgown standing there. It wasn't until I blinked several times that I realized she was blurry because I had been crying.

"I--" I began and then frowned. "I couldn't sleep."

She walked over to me, and looked at what I was holding, running her fingers through my hair as she did so.

"This was a lovely portrait," she said. "It was one of his favorites. He said that you looked like you were about to burst out laughing at any second. It made him happy to look at it."

"Mother," I said, looking up at her. "Do you think--" I sighed, remembering Aunt Clara's words from this evening. _You're the man of the house now_. Ought I to burden her with my worries?

"What is it, son?" she said, putting her hand on my cheek and looking into my eyes. I could tell she had been crying, but the morbid sadness seemed to have been washed away in the torrent of tears. "What's troubling you?"

"I'm scared," I admitted. "If Father could get sick--"

"I know, Edward," she said soothingly. "We'll do our best to protect ourselves. But we can't stop living. We just have to do the best with what we have."

I was reminded of Edie's words this afternoon then and looked up at her. She was smiling gently at me. It wasn't her former smile by any means, but it was closer to what I was used to and so I returned her smile.

"You and Edie will remain home tomorrow but you must return to classes on Wednesday. Your father wouldn't want us to dwell in the past or to live in fear of what might be," she said, her lip quivering slightly.

I nodded, taking her hand in mine.

"We're going to be fine, Mother," I said.

"We'll be together," she said. "That's the most important thing."

We hugged each other and she told me that I needed to get myself to bed. I promised her that I would as soon as I took the dishes to the sink. She looked down at them and back at me. I think that she knew they were from Father, but she did not ask me and I would not offer the information to her. It could be just enough to set her over the edge again. She turned and began to walk from the room then.

"I love you, son," she said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mother," I said, calling after her. "I love you, too."

* * *

We spent the next day returning the house to some order. In the mid-morning, as Mr. Kirkbride and I fought to get the dining room table back to its previous position, there was a knock at the door. Both Mother and Aunt Clara went to see who was there. We positioned the table and I ventured out to the foyer to see a man wearing a mask standing just outside the door with several boxes at his feet.

"As I was saying, Mrs. Masen," the man said. "The office sends its most heartfelt condolences at the loss of your husband. We wanted to save you a trip downtown by bringing Mr. Masen's belongings to you. We've put everything together."

"That is most kind of you," Mother said. "Won't you come in for a moment?"

"I--" he said, eyes darting into the house and to the masks on our faces. "What I mean to say--"

"I'll be happy to bring those inside," I said, stepping forward. "You must be in a hurry to get back to the office. We thank you so much for coming all the way here."

The man was already backing down the steps as he stammered his thanks for my help. I saw Aunt Clara put her arms around Mother's stiff frame and guide her out of my way as I brought the boxes inside. Once the man was jogging back to his waiting car, I heard Mother begin to murmur in the background.

"Of all the ridiculous things," she was saying. "I just asked him to come in to the house! What is so dangerous about my house?"

"Elizabeth," Aunt Clara was soothing her. "The man is frightened, that's all. You can't blame him for his fear. We're all frightened of this disease."

"I certainly can blame him for his lack of courtesy!" Mother said indignantly.

I looked at her over the top of my mask, cocking an eyebrow at her. She looked back at me, chin out in defiance for a second and then bowed her head.

"I'm going to lie down for a while," she said shakily.

I looked at my aunt sternly and was pleased when she said no words of reproach. After we heard Mother on the stairs and Mr. Kirkbride bid us a hasty farewell, Aunt Clara turned to me.

"How long are you going to let her go on like this?" she asked me.

"It's only been three days," I reminded her.

"She can't hide away any time that she's confronted with the reality of the flu, Edward. It's not healthy for her."

"She'll get better," I said, running my hand through my hair. "It's just too much for her right now. This is how she handles it: _privately_."

"As long as she _is_ handling it," Aunt Clara said finally. "Hiding from it and forgetting about it isn't going to make things any easier for her."

"I'll speak to her this afternoon," I said. "But you need to understand that she's not going to handle this the way that you did."

I knew that I was on dangerous ground with her. I had certainly never spoken to my aunt about her experience of losing her husband; I wasn't sure that even my mother had spoken to her of that time in her life.

She regarded me for a moment and then nodded her head once, turning away from me. I saw Edie standing off to the side, just out of sight and wondered what she thought of this exchange.

* * *

Although I had kept good on my promise to speak to my mother, it hadn't gone very well. I wasn't confident that it was my place to ask her about her grief and she wasn't willing to be open with me about it. In then end, we danced around the issue and let it drop before we had even scratched the surface. My aunt was getting more exasperated about the situation by the minute and I feared that she would bring it to a head in her own way soon.

Edie and I did return to school on Wednesday and it was not the welcome relief that I had been looking for. Instead, everyone treated me differently. Some were afraid to go near me for fear that I had the flu too. Others, kept looking at me sadly and whispering behind their hands. I knew that they were talking about my Father dying and it didn't help me to focus on other things. The only constants were Anna and Tom Flannery.

Tom walked up that morning and immediately fell back into our old routine, punching my shoulder lightly. "Let's get on with it. I'm going to catch it from my father when I get to work late."

I appreciated his coming and, even more than that, I appreciated the casual way he spoke to me. He didn't act like he suddenly didn't have a father. He was just there for me, the way he always was, and that was what I needed.

Anna met us both in the early morning and after school for the rest of the week and Tom made it a point to meet us after school each day. It became clear very quickly that Tom was becoming more interested in Edie and that the interest was not one sided. I smiled, thinking of Edie with Tom. He was good for her, in his own way. She had come a long way from the girl she was in July. I could just see her blossoming into the type of wife that would suit Tom perfectly.

And then, as always, the morbid worry took me again. What if she never got that chance? What if the flu took her, or Tom, before they could have their happily every after? I never got around to worrying about myself. Instead, I spent my time worrying about everyone around me, listening for the tell-tale signs of the start of an infection.

It did not escape my notice that Bill Leeds and the Kelly girls were missing from our small group when Anna and Tom showed up at my door Wednesday morning and the rest of the days thereafter. Anna said something about them wanting to get to school early for some reason, but by the way her eyes darted to the ground as she spoke, I knew that she was lying. However, I was glad to learn that Edie's friends, Grace and Lilly, were still friendly with her in school. They just preferred to walk separately from the rest of us, their parents discouraging them from the larger group. I think that Bill Leeds had more to do with that than Anna ever really let on. His parents were petrified of the disease and I think that he was doing what he could to protect Lillian.

By the end of September, it was clear that the flu was eating away at the population. Nearly everyone in our school had been affected in some way by the flu. Ten students were either out sick or taking care of sick parents on the last day of the month and we walked home dejectedly, not saying much at all.

"How do you think it happens?" Anna asked suddenly as we were nearing my house.

"What?" I asked, taking the pretzel stick that Tom was offering me.

"Why do some people get it and others don't?" she said, looking down at the ground.

Edie took a sharp intake of breath and moved a little closer to Tom. Tom shifted Edie's books uncomfortably as they all waited for my reply. I think they were waiting for an explosion of grief from me; or possibly, just anger. I sighed, thinking about the best way to answer Anna's question.

"Diseases don't _pick_ who they are going to target," I said slowly. "Some people are more susceptible than others. And, there are those who are immune to the disease who won't get sick at all."

"Father thinks that he is immune," Anna said lowly. "I heard him telling Mother last night about how he had gotten sick in the last big flu outbreak, in the '90s. He doesn't think he can get this."

"He may be right," I said, considering. "Carlisle told me about several types of diseases that provided immunity if you recovered from them."

I didn't know if the flu was such a disease, but I hoped for Mr. Scott's sake that that was the case. Thinking of Carlisle was a little painful for me still. I had written to him just after Father passed, hoping that he would be able to meet with me only to be disappointed with a short reply informing me of his busy schedule and sending his regrets. He wished me the best and hoped that we were well, but was unable to meet with me. I understood, of course, but was nonetheless disappointed in the rejection.

When we arrived at the house, Mother was waiting at the door. It was unusual, as of late, to see her up and about. She was not completely despondent, but more often than not, we found her either in her own room or in the sitting room doing some mending. Now, she was dressed and alert, color high in her cheeks. The life was back in her eyes and she seemed more like herself than she had seemed since Father's death.

When she saw us coming up the walkway, she opened the door and I immediately knew that something was wrong. Instantly, I was going through who might be ill. Aunt Clara? Mr. or Mrs. Kirkbride? One of their children?

"Anna," Mother said. And then I knew. "It's your mother, dear. We need to go to your house. She's taken ill."

**_A/N: Settle, settle. I know its a cliff hanger and I'm sorry. But *something* big had to happen in order to stir Elizabeth out of her depression. So, it seems I'm as anxious as all of you to get to the next stage in Edward's life . . . I'm writing like a fiend to get us there. :) This chapter was a bit less bleak so I hope that you didn't need as many Kleenex for this one. Stick with me for the next few chapters and then I promise we'll get to see vampire Edward soon. ;) Oh, and don't be so sure that everyone is going to have to die in order to make the change work . . . I told you I have a few tricks left up my sleeve and I meant it. There will be some surprises in the next few chapters, so buckle in people! We're in for a bumpy ride. Review, please. You know . . . 'cause it makes Edward smile that crooked smile. And it makes me squeal like an idiot, but that's secondary to Edward's smiles, I know. ;) ~Jen_**


	14. A White Hot Burn

Mrs. Scott and I were never very close; I always felt that she was disappointed in me for my inability to offer her daughter a married life. But, watching the effect her lingering, deteriorating illness had on Anna was almost as hard on me as it had been to watch Father die. At least Father had died quickly and I was able to comfort myself with the idea that he didn't have time to suffer much. It was clear that Corrine Scott was suffering.

Our morning routines changed with the start of Mrs. Scott's illness. Instead of Anna meeting Edie and me at our house, we would walk over to the Scott house with Mother and meet Anna there. There, Mother would take over for Anna in caring for Mrs. Scott while the three of us walked to school. Anna would walk quickly away from the house, slowing only when we rounded the corner away from her house. Her breathing would settle and she would begin to walk slower still once we were away. And as we walked home, she would walk even slower, almost dragging her feet as we walked, trying to slow down time before she had to be home again.

She never talked about her nights with her mother or about what the disease was doing to her. I was embarrassed to say that I was clinically interested in what was occurring that made the disease linger so long in Mrs. Scott and yet bring my father down so quickly. Secretly, I wondered if this was a good sign for Mrs. Scott. Maybe if the disease would kill you, it did so within a very short while. Perhaps the lingering nature of Mrs. Scott's disease bode well for her eventual recovery.

However, I couldn't share my thoughts with Anna. She wouldn't speak of her mother's illness nor of the things that she was required to do in order to care for her. I knew, of course, that Mr. Scott was not helping to care for his wife. I couldn't help but think of Father then, knowing that if his beloved Liz was sick he wouldn't have stood for anyone else to care for her but himself. But, I knew that it was unfair of me to compare the two men. Just as Aunt Clara and Mother had two very different ways of handling grief, so too might Mr. Scott have a different way of dealing with his wife's illness.

I couldn't deny that I was relieved to have my mother back. For all of the pain that I knew her mother's sickness was causing Anna, it had brought my mother out of the dark place where she had hidden herself after my father died. Her spirit was back and she was fighting again. I knew that it was because she felt needed and vital to the survival of the friend that she considered part of her family. But it was more than that; I could see very easily that Mother was back regardless of the outcome for Mrs. Scott. She was fighting for her friend's health, but she would not slip back into the depression that she had been in before.

"Edward," Mother said one night after we returned from Anna's house.

"Yes, Mother," I said. I was lying on my bed reading something for homework and she was standing in the doorway.

"I never said thank you," she said softly.

"What ever for?" I asked, confused.

"For allowing me my own time to grieve your father," she said. "I know that those two weeks were difficult for you; Clara hasn't hesitated to mention the burden that I placed on you."

I flipped to my side and rested my head on my hand.

"It wasn't so bad for me," I said quietly and smiling. "You shouldn't listen to Aunt Clara too closely."

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, sitting up. She sat herself on the edge of the bed and smoothed her skirt.

"You understand what is happening in this city, right Edward?"

"You mean with the flu?" I asked and she nodded. "I understand that it is much more deadly than anyone ever expected."

"No one knows who is going to get sick next or how anyone will react once they are sick," she said.

"But, Mother," I said. "We never know, really."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that no one ever really knows what is going to take them," I said. "Chicago is dangerous right now because of the flu, but it's really no different than any other time."

"That's true," she said slowly. "But aren't you very worried that one of us will be next?"

I shrugged, considering it. "The thought has crossed my mind on several occasions," I said finally.

"And? What have you come up with?" she asked.

"Just that we are doing everything that we can to protect ourselves and that worrying about what might be won't save us from the flu."

"You are wise beyond your years, Edward," she said, smiling.

"Just practical," I said. "Like my mother."

She patted my hand.

"I have something that I need to tell you," she said. "I don't want to upset you, but you need to know this."

I cocked my head to the side and looked at her, my body tensing involuntarily in anticipation of what she was about say.

"First of all, I have some good news about Mrs. Scott," she said. "She seems to be finally on the mend. She is eating solid foods now and is much more responsive than she had been. She is actually insisting on trying to do things for herself now, although she is still too weak to accomplish very much."

"That is good news," I said, happy for Anna that her mother seemed to be recovering. "But, I don't understand--"

"I got word from Mrs. Kelly today while I was over at Corrine's house," she said, clutching at my hand now.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Both Grace and Lillian have become sick," she said softly. "Gracie in particular is quite ill."

"That's terrible," I said, leaning forward. "Have they taken them to the hospital? Do they need anything?"

Mother smiled and patted my hand again.

"They aren't sick enough to need hospitalization," she said. "Things are very difficult in the hospitals now. With so many more people becoming ill, the health authorities are encouraging people to care for their ill relatives at home until they absolutely need to go to the hospitals."

I could imagine how very overrun the hospital had become since Father was there. It had been nearly two weeks now and the city had become a hotbed for influenza infection.

"What did Mrs. Kelly say?" I asked, swallowing hard as I thought of Bill and his worry over Lillian.

"She was convinced that both girls would make a full recovery without needing to be hospitalized. She said that she was only calling to let us know because Edie had been spending so much time with the girls."

I nodded, overwhelmed with decidedly impractical thoughts. Mrs. Scott was on the mend, the Kelly girls were sick but looked to make a full recovery . . . why them and not my father? It was uncharitable and I was embarrassed for even thinking it. I tried very hard to push the thoughts out of my mind.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Mother said softly.

"Nothing worth mentioning," I said roughly.

"Are you jealous?" she asked.

I looked up at her quickly, my eyes narrowing and my mouth hanging open.

"You're not wrong to feel jealous of them for getting better, Edward," she said. "I am. I'm angry that someone as strong as your father was taken away from us and they seem able to beat it. It's not fair."

I looked down at my hands, unsure of what to say. She had voiced my very own thoughts and she didn't seem embarrassed by them. But I was. This was my best friend's mother! I shouldn't be jealous that she was recovering. Mother patted my hand again and stood up from the bed.

"I didn't want the wrong person telling you," she said softly. "I'll leave you alone now."

She turned to go and then froze. We both heard it at the same time. Somewhere in the house, someone was coughing.

* * *

We both rushed down the hallway and found Aunt Clara at the bottom of the steps in Edie's arms. Her face was nearly purple from coughing and her hair was plastered to her face.

"Please," Edie cried. "Help me."

I reached out and picked Aunt Clara up without too much difficulty. As Aunt Clara and Edie were staying on the third floor of the house, Mother led me into the one guest room on the second floor adjacent to my own room.

"Edie," Mother said. "I want you to go downstairs and boil some water. Edward, after you place Aunt Clara in the room, go gather as many clean towels and sheets as you can from the linen closets. I'm going to need some things from the market as well. Lemons, Lysol, mint, and Vicks."

I carefully placed Aunt Clara on the bed and Mother was at her side immediately. I nodded to her and turned around. Edie was still standing in the doorway, a look of horror on her face as she watched her mother gasping for air after the coughing fit. Mother looked up at us. "Go, Edward. Take Edie with you to the market after you get the water and linens."

I took Edie by both shoulders, turned her gently around and walked with her down the hallway. She wasn't crying but her eyes were wide with terror. She drew the water numbly as I moved around the house gathering the things that Mother had asked for. I walked into Father's office, walked past his desk to the jar on the shelf that held our grocery money. I took five dollars and ran back to find Edie.

She was hunched over the sink, her hair hanging down around her face and the water was still running, overflowing the kettle and pouring down the drain. I walked up behind her and put my hands gently on her shoulders; I could feel them shaking beneath my hands.

"Edie," I said gently. "Here, let me."

She stepped out of the way and I righted the kettle. Once the water was at the right height, I placed it on the stove to heat and turned around the face Edie. Her tears had calmed but she was looking at me with such sadness and fear.

"I don't want to be an orphan, Edward," she said and another tear slipped out of her eye.

I began to speak but she threw herself into my arms. It was uncomfortable for me; I had never comforted someone other than my mother, especially not a young woman. But, I let her cry on my shoulder and I rubbed her back while the water was heating. I moved her away from me slightly and hushed her once more.

"Edie," I said soothingly. "This doesn't mean that your mother is going to die."

She shook her head violently and wiped at her cheeks.

"You don't understand," she said through her tears. "She told me she's dying. She already knows."

"That's the fever talking," I said. "Mother said that Mrs. Scott is getting better and she was looking so poorly for so long."

Edie nodded at me. "Maybe," she said. "Maybe you're right."

She seemed to get herself under some control and then the kettle began to whistle. We both jumped and then laughed a little at ourselves. I used the tea cozy to pick up the kettle and carried the water basin in my other hand. We carried the water and the linens to the spare room where Mother sat with Aunt Clara.

Mother had gotten Aunt Clara propped up in the bed. Her head was lolling on a pillow and her arms were limp at her sides. As we entered the room, she began another coughing fit that ripped through her body, making her flop in the bed uncomfortably.

"How long has she been like this, Edie?" Mother said softly when the coughing had died down.

"She was sneezing last night," Edie said. "When I got up to leave for school, she looked flushed but she said she was feeling better. She insisted that I go to school, Aunt Elizabeth. When I said I wanted to tell you, she wouldn't let me."

"It's ok now, baby," Mother said soothingly. "It'll be ok. Just go the market now with Edward. I'll take care of her."

Mother looked up at me and the look she gave me was both warning and pleading. She knew it too; Aunt Clara was dying.

* * *

Mrs. Scott did make a full recovery. It was miraculous, really. Once she started to get better, it only took about two days for her to get fully well. And, true to the person she had always been, she was over at our house as soon as she was well enough to help Mother care for Aunt Clara.

We received word from Mrs. Kelly about three days after Aunt Clara became ill letting us know that both Lily and Gracie had made a full recovery. She wished us well and hoped that Aunt Clara would make as quick a recovery.

But that did not seem to be in the cards for Aunt Clara. She became weaker and weaker as her illness wore on. By October 10th, Mother feared that she could go at any moment. She begged and pleaded with Aunt Clara, trying to convince her to go to the hospital, but Aunt Clara was adamant that she would not go to the hospital. She knew she was dying and she wanted to die in the house in which she was born and raised.

Edie had gone to bed on the evening of the 10th, worn out from the emotional ups and downs of the past weeks. As I slipped past the sick room, I heard my Aunt's raspy voice grinding out to my mother.

"Elizabeth," she rasped. "I don't have long."

"You've been saying that for three days now, Clara," Mother said patiently.

"When the time comes, I want to be placed with my brother and parents in the family crypt. Don't ship me back to Scranton, Elizabeth."

"Clara, please, don't be ridiculous. You're still fighting this!"

"But I can feel it now," she said. "I don't want to fight any more."

I could hear Mother moving in the room and the creak of the bed as she sat down on the edge.

"You need to fight for your daughter, Clara," Mother said. "Do it for Edie, love. I know it's hard, but you can do it for her, can't you?"

There was silence and then the rustling of covers as I assumed that Clara adjusted herself somehow.

"Please," Aunt Clara rasped again. "Tell me you'll take care of my baby. Tell me you won't let her want for anything. Promise me, Elizabeth."

"I'll do everything in my power for her, Clara. I promise you."

Aunt Clara became incoherent then, muttering and whimpering about things that made no sense to me. But I heard Mother calmly agreeing with her, talking to her gently and smoothing the sheets when Aunt Clara would thrash or cough.

I walked to my bedroom and fell into a fitful sleep full of strange dreams.

* * *

The next morning, Mother came into my room early and I woke with the knowledge that Aunt Clara had either died in the night or was dying right now.

"Come Edward," Mother said without ceremony. "We don't have long."

Edie was sitting by her mother's bedside, holding her hand. Her eyes were dry as they watched Aunt Clara's chest heave and fight to go up and down. I heard the watery breathing and a pain seized me as I was violently brought back to my father's deathbed.

"Edie," Aunt Clara said then, her voice strained and foreign. "My love. You're here."

"I'm here Mother," Edie said, kneeling at her bedside. "What do you need?"

"I love you, Edie," Aunt Clara said. "Be good."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and then she was gone. Edie bowed her head to her mother's bed and whispered over and over, "I love you, I love you."

Mother was going toward the window, but I couldn't stay any longer. I stormed down the stairs and crashed out the back door nearly knocking Mrs. Scott and Anna off of the steps as I did so. They both recoiled from me and I guessed that my face was horrific in my renewed grief.

"I--" I began. "Mother is inside," I finished through clenched teeth and then ran for the sunflowers in a blinding fit of rage. I heard the door slam and I heard the sound of fast pursuit behind me but I didn't turn around. I knew that it was Anna.

"Go away, Anna," I said severely. "Now isn't a good time."

"I'm not going anywhere, Edward Masen, so you can forget about that."

I whirled around on her and she shrunk back just a little.

"Why?" I roared. "Why did _she_ get to say her goodbye?"

"Did--" Anna began softly. "Oh. Did your aunt--"

"Yes," I said violently. "She's dead. But she said her goodbyes to everyone she loved before she went. She told her daughter that she loved her. Why? I wanted that!"

I turned back around and put my hands on the fencepost breathing deeply.

"Are you very upset at me, then?" Anna said softly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked nastily.

"Well, my mother lived," she said. "Aren't you very upset at me for getting her back?"

I snorted, remembering the hot jealousy that I felt when I heard that Mrs. Scott was recovering and the shame that had followed. Suddenly, I felt her hand on my shoulder. I quickly shook her off; I didn't deserve her comfort right now.

"It's ok," she said. "I don't blame you, you know. I'd feel the same way."

"Please," I said. "Just go. I'll be in later when I'm more myself. I don't wish you to see me this way. I'm not feeling very much like the Edward that you know right now."

"It doesn't matter what you feel or who you become, Edward," she said. "You'll always be my best friend."

I heard her retreating across the grass and then the hot tears started pouring down my cheeks. So much grief that I had bottled inside all bubbling to the surface, now mixed with the shame and guilt at my monstrous behavior. I stayed out in the chilly day amid the dying sunflowers and tried in vain to get my emotions back under control.

It had taken me nearly a half hour, but no one bothered me again while I worked through the grief and the anger and shame. When I finally finished with my self-pity, I jogged back to the house. There was no reproach waiting for me, only the acceptance that only family and dear friends could offer. In my absence, the women had been busy. Edie was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of tea in front of her and Anna was sitting beside her whispering gently to her. I didn't see Mother or Mrs. Scott, but I assumed they were busy with preparations and caring for Aunt Clara's body. There would be another wake and interment soon, another reason to dredge up my grief.

"Edie," I said. She looked up at me with no emotion left in her eyes. "I'm sorry--" I broke off, not sure whether to offer condolences or apologize for my action. She stood and looked at me then.

"I know, Edward," she said. "It's alright."

With those words, all the anger washed out of me. I was left with the burning grief and remorse, but I felt no more anger or jealousy. I walked over to my cousin and hugged her. "I'm so sorry, Edie. Truly, I am."

"I know," she said. I looked over at Anna who nodded at me as well. I knew that she understood, but I was still a little horrified at myself for having expressed such terrible thoughts to Anna when she had so nearly lost her mother as well.

* * *

I had a terrible headache for the two days before Aunt Clara's wake. I helped out where I could, but I felt tired all of the time. Mother said that I was suffering from the delayed grief of Father's death. No matter how hard I fought with myself, I could not seem to shake the stupor that that was clouding my brain.

The wake and interment were quick and blessedly different from Father's service. Because of all of the recent deaths and because Aunt Clara was so new to the city, no one other than Mrs. Kelly and her girls and Mrs. Scott and Anna came over for the wake. The mortician drove Aunt Clara's body over to the cemetery and only Mother, Edie and I were there for the interment. We stood in the misting, cold rain and watched as they placed her in the same crypt where we had laid my father to rest not a month ago.

I was tired. I felt terrible for focusing so acutely on the aching in my arms, but as we walked out of the cemetery, it felt as though I was walking through water. Every movement became a chore.

"Edward," Mother said worriedly when I bent over just outside of the cemetery. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just very tired, Mother," I said. I took a deep breath to yawn and ended with a bone shattering string of coughs.

"Come on, then," Mother said quickly. "Let's get you home and out of the rain."

Fear settled around my heart as Mother took my arm and led me away from the cemetery. Just as we approached the house, my nose began to itch. I had never fought against sneezing so hard in all my life. But, no matter how hard I fought, the sneeze forced its way explosively out.

Suddenly, I felt worse than I had in the past two days. My nose was clogged and my throat felt scratchy. I looked up from wiping my nose to see my mother's and cousin's twin faces of fear staring at me. I knew what was wrong with me and I could tell that Edie and Mother knew as well. The flu had come for another one of us.

"Inside," Mother said. "We'll get you some tea and everything will be fine. You've just caught a chill from the cold, rainy air."

* * *

It wasn't a chill and I wasn't alone. Mother began coughing the next day. It was October 15th when Mother became scared enough to call the hospital. I was lying in my room, my head aching and my throat burning, when I heard her pick up the phone and dial it.

"Yes," she said in her nasal voice. "Dr. Cullen please. This is Elizabeth Masen. Please tell him this is in regards to Edward, my son."

She waited and I waited, holding my breath as much as I could so that I could hear the muffled conversation below.

"Carlisle?" she said, her voice rising in relief. "Thank you for taking my call."

She paused, listening for a second to Carlisle. I found that I missed his voice which was a silly thing to think right now but I wasn't thinking as clearly with this headache as I had before.

"Yes," she continued. "I'm afraid Clara did pass earlier this week." She paused. "Thank you. The reason I called you -- yes, he is."

It was clear from her pauses that Carlisle was figuring out most of what was going on as well.

"I'm afraid that I may be, yes," she said, lower now.

I guessed that he also concluded Mother was sick from her voice, although I thought it strange that he could tell that from just the phone conversation.

"You see," she said. "I need to know what do for him, Carlisle. I can't let him die."

Her voice was desperate, pleading. I remembered, from what seemed like another life, her voice when she pleaded with me not to become a soldier. Her voice was the same now.

"I see," she said quickly. "Yes, I can. -- Yes, I will. -- In the morning then. Thank you. Thank you so much."

I heard her hanging up the phone and I wondered whether she had convinced Carlisle to come here. She picked up the phone again, but I was drifting again, unable to concentrate on the conversation going on downstairs.

_**A/N: So, it's the beginning of the end. First off, I need to explain my radio silence yesterday since it was my full intention to post yesterday. I sat down to start writing and was completely certain in that moment that, should I try to write this chapter, I'd end by killing off EVERYONE. It was just one of those days. So, I wisely stepped slowly and carefully away from the computer and didn't come back to it until this morning. I was a much better adjusted writer this morning. And, as you can see, our Edward may not be well, but he is most definately still alive. See? Good choice, right? ;) So, I need to address the people who got sick and then recovered. We've been given the impression that, because the three Masen's die (let's face it, if it weren't for supernatural intervention, Bella might have been dating Mike Newton), everyone who got the flu died. Historically, that's inaccurate. A great number of people who got sick recovered fully. And, there were a great number of people who never even got sick. I'm trying to be historically accurate while still staying in canon and it's posing some slight plot issues. So, I'm going to ask that you suspend judgement on my decisions about who lives and dies until the change is completely over, the dust settles, and we see what has happened. I promise that the central story will remain the same. But, some of my supporting characters may just make it through and we might see them on the other side in some way, shape, or form. But that's a good thing, right? Ok, review plea: Push the review button, because reviews are like comforting hugs from Edward. Ok, maybe not that good, but damn close. ;) ~Jen**_


	15. Fever Pitch

**_A/N: I was accused of being mean for not warning you guys in a previous chapter. So, here's my warning. KLEENEX. Get them. Use them. You'll need them. Consider yourselves warned . . . :P_**

* * *

**Edward's POV**

I didn't know how long I was asleep, but I awoke to Mother walking into the room with Edie behind her. I noticed that Edie was wearing a mask; I was surprised that Mother didn't tell her to take it off. She never liked it when people wore masks around Father. I shook my head. Father was dead. I was the one in bed and ill. I was having trouble remembering things.

"What's the matter, love?" Mother asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"I--" I began and then cringed at the sound of my voice. It sounded wrong and far away. "Bad dream," I said.

She smoothed my hair and hushed me as I coughed again. My chest hurt as well as my sides. I grunted and groaned.

"Tell me what it is," Mother said.

"My _Serratas Anterior_ muscle aches. _Oblique External. Rectus Abdominal_--" I trailed off, thinking about the pictures in the books of the strange pink men and their stretched and exposed muscles. _Wonder if they'll take pictures of my muscles?_

Mother looked up at Edie and then back at me. I must have asked that out loud because she looked confused.

"Anna and her mother will be here soon," Mother said. "She wants to see you before--"

"Before I die?" I asked calmly.

Edie let out a sob and Mother drew her hand back quickly.

"It's ok, Mom," I said. "I'm not afraid."

"You're not dying," she said. "I forbid it."

It didn't seem I could argue with that so, because I was tired, I just fell asleep.

_His face is so pale . . ._ Were they talking about me or Carlisle? He was very pale, it seemed natural for him. He never blushed like me. _Look at the flush of fever in his cheeks_ . . . Hmmm, they must be talking about me then. _And his eyes are so sunken_ . . . Were my eyes open? I couldn't see anything. _Whose voice is that?_

"It's me, Edward," a voice said next to me. I must have asked whose voice that was. "It's Anna."

_Oh_, I thought. _Anna. She's a nice girl. Can't marry her though. Sorry, Mom_.

"You're very silly when you're fevered," she said. "I wouldn't marry you even if you said please."

_Hmmm, _I thought. _Is she reading my mind or am I talking?_

"You're talking, Edward. Open your eyes."

Like Mother's command not to die, I felt like I couldn't disobey. I opened my eyes and immediately winced.

"Ah!" I moaned and then brought my hands up, sending a shooting pain down my back. "The light is so bright."

"It's ok," Anna said. She got up and I heard her clicking something. I could feel the darkness around me and I heard some one whispering harshly from the doorway. It wasn't Mother or Anna.

"It hurts his eyes, Mother," Anna said angrily. "Please don't be ridiculous."

She was sitting on the side of the bed again.

"Where's Mother?" I whimpered.

"I'm right here, son," she said, her voice grinding like gravel out of her throat.

"Go to bed, Mom," I said, feeling lucid for the first time all evening. She was sick too. She needed to lie down. I tried to sit up but it was a mistake. I felt firm, cool hands on my shoulders and fixing the pillows behind me. I settled back into the pillows and sighed heavily, causing me to cough violently.

The same cool hands were wiping my forehead. _Cool hands. Is that Carlisle? His hands are always cool_.

"Come back to me, Edward," a voice called to me from far away. It was one of those voices that I had to listen to. "It's Anna. Come back to me."

"I didn't go anywhere," I grumbled. "I can't move."

"Oh yes you can. And you're going to in a couple of hours," she said and then continued in a whisper, "because I'm certainly not carrying you to the hospital."

We both chuckled but it made me cough. Another set of hands wiped my brow. They were also cool. _Mother?_

"It's Edie, cousin," a soft voice said from the other side of my bed. "What?"

I must have made a face.

"You would do it for me," she continued quietly.

_Another voice to listen to_, I grumbled in my head.

"I heard that," Anna said.

_Sorry._

Everything was black for a long time, but then I felt cold hands everywhere on my body. One was wiping my brow, one was slapping my cheek. I felt another set of hands, these warmer, on my bare chest and I heard voices that seemed to be coming from far away.

"Breathe!" Anna's voice said through a tunnel. "Don't you do this to me!"

_It's so hard_.

"No it isn't!" Edie said, a little closer. "You're just not trying. Try!"

_I'm tired. Let me sleep_.

"Edward Anthony Masen!" My eyes flew open and I stared into the fevered face of my mother who was panting over me. Her hair was slick against her pasty face but there was a hectic color in her cheeks that looked neither healthy nor normal. "You breathe, dammit."

I breathed, if for no other reason than the shock that was coursing through me. I had _never_ heard Mother use foul language. I breathed and it hurt but I kept doing it in fear of what she might do to me if I stopped again.

"Call the Kellys, Corrine" she said, sucking in her breaths harshly. "It's time."

There was a sob that came from the side of the bed. I noticed that I was drenched and shivering violently. There were hands and towels all over me drying me off. The indecency of this moment wasn't lost to me in the fever that had eaten away at my consciousness. _My shirt_.

"It's fine, Edward," Mother said, coughing into the crook of her elbow. "I have a new one."

My eyes rolled around the room. I felt like I could hear them moving in the sockets. I wondered if the fever was making the _vitreous gel_ boil and pop or if that was just my fuzzy head. My eyes rested on Anna, her face tinged red in embarrassment. _Sorry_.

"Don't be silly," Mother said, deftly slipping me into a dry shirt. "Anna, get his shoes on."

_NO!_ I roared in my head, thankful that I seemed to be able to keep that to myself because Anna never even hesitated.

"Edward," she said harshly. "Stop moaning and put your foot in."

_Oh. _I said, realizing that I wasn't just thinking anything anymore. _Sorry, Anna_.

"Don't be," she said simply. "You're going to need to get up here in a few moments. Save your energy for that, ok?"

I nodded weakly and it sent waves of pain and sickness shuddering down my spine. I fell back against the pillows, a new sheen of sweat over my skin. I heard a voice that I didn't recognize in the distance talking to someone and telling them, forcefully, to _Come. Now!_

I wanted to tell them to stop. It wasn't that bad. I'd be fine. But I couldn't say anything. They had told me not to and I couldn't disappoint them. _I'm going to disappoint them when I try to walk_.

"You're going to try," Anna said.

"That's all we ask," Mother said.

"Just try," Edie said.

My head was spinning as I looked at them standing around my bed, their faces, pale then flushed then pale again beginning to blur together and I whirled from face to face. _I'm trying. I promise. I'm trying. But . . . I . . ._

* * *

**Elizabeth's POV**

Edward slumped in the bed. He wasn't resting this time; he had passed out. He was still breathing heavily and I was sure that the guilt we three had laid upon him would be just enough to keep him breathing until we got him to the hospital. I heard the door open and close; Corrine was bringing Mr. Kelly up the stairs.

"Anna," I said. "Hand me the robe. We need to get his chest covered up more before he goes out into the air. Edie, help Anna. I'm going to lift him up."

"No," Anna said, taking my hand. "Let me lift him. You're already so weak, Mrs. Masen. He's going to need you--"

I smiled at her. So practical. So young. I shook my head, chasing the cobwebs that were threatening my consciousness.

"Ok," I said. "Lift him forward and we'll slip his robe on."

She let out a small grunt as she brought my son's heavy torso forward. As Edie and I were working the robe over his arms, Mr. Kelly stepped into the doorframe and gave the three of us a disapproving look.

"Can't he help you?" he said harshly as his eyes drifted from Anna's bare knee, her skirt hiked up in her effort, resting next to Edward's leg on the bed to his head lolling in her lap. He turned to Corrine. "Surely you can't--"

But, bless her, she cut him off.

"Edward and Elizabeth need to get to the hospital now. I've already packed Edie's bag."

Corrine took over for Edie, helping me shrug the robe across Edward's shoulders. She looked over his messy, bronze hair that was now hanging in his face. It was too long; I should have gotten it cut before he got sick. Now--I shook my head again, willing myself to _stop_ right there. It was _not_ too late. Corrine seemed to know what I was thinking.

"Dr. Cullen will know what to do," she said softly. "Edie, get your bag, love. Mr. Kelly will take you with him back to his house."

"But, I want to stay with you, Aunt Elizabeth," Edie said, stepping forward. "I want to help with Edward."

I shook my head, knowing that she would want this but unwilling to permit it. I had promised Clara, after all.

"You'll see us when we're out of the hospital, Edie," I said, walking around the bed and touching her upper arm. I did not want to hug her for fear of passing my germs to her but she threw herself into my arms.

"Please," she said. "Please don't leave me."

"We love you, Edie," I said softly into her hair. "You are a good friend to your cousin and I know he'll see you again."

With that, Mr. Kelly was straining to support Edward who had come to a little bit and was doing his best to try as he had promised us. He couldn't stand on his own, but he fought to take every step. Despite everyone's objections, I walked in front of him on the steps, ready at any moment to break his fall should he pass out. He never did and I credit Anna for that as much as Edward's stubbornness. The entire time he was on his feet, she chanted, "you can do this, don't fall, don't you dare," over and over again. We miraculously got him into Mr. Kelly's car and I slid in next to him, motioning Edie to get into the front seat.

She twisted herself around so that she could watch us in the back seat.

"How is he breathing?" she asked. "Do you need anything? Did we remember--?"

"Edie," I said tightly, barely holding in the cough that was threatening in the back of my throat. "It's going to be fine. I'll take care of him. I promise."

"I know, Aunt Elizabeth," she said and I could see the fear in her eyes. She was wondering who would take care of her, I supposed.

The short conversation that I had had with Virginia Kelly had ensured me that, should anything happen to me in the hospital, she would be more than happy to take Edie in. I knew that there were distant relatives from her father's family somewhere across the country, but I also knew that Edie would prefer not to have to make another move. Although she wouldn't be happy to lose her family, I felt I could count on Ginny to make her feel at home; she already loved her like a daughter. It wasn't ideal but it would do in the event of my own death.

I found that thinking about dying wasn't terribly uncomfortable. I would get to see my Edward, my love, again. I smiled. But now I had to shore up Edward's future. He wouldn't die; I knew that deep within my bones. I wouldn't allow it and I had already forbidden him from it. Carlisle was somehow the central part of this plan; I knew that I needed him but, as of yet, I didn't know why.

That same bloody nurse was waiting for us when we arrived at the hospital. _This fever is doing nothing for your ladylike manners, Elizabeth,_ I thought to myself.I had less than happy memories of her and her grating voice. It was worse than I remembered it.

"Mrs. Masen," she cooed at me. "Let's get you and your boy into the hospital. Can you walk, sweetie?"

"I can walk," I said bitterly. "My son. He--"

"It's ok," the nurse said, more to Edie than to me. Edie was already out of the car and leaning in to try to help Edward. He dwarfed her by nearly a foot and outweighed her heartily, but I still found it touchingly sweet that she wanted to help him. But the nurse was pushing her away, telling her to stay away from the patient.

"Lynn, is that your name?" I said sweetly. She nodded at me, smiling her false smile. "Let my niece say goodbye to her cousin."

The words ground out like ice and her face recoiled from my anger. She nodded tersely and stepped back.

"See you, Edward," Edie said, choking on her tears. I could tell that she didn't think she would see him again.

"S'okay Edie," Edward barely whispered. Edie ducked closer to him to hear what he was saying. "Be nice for Anna and Tom? For me."

A large tear fell down her cheek as she stepped away from him. I didn't know what he was talking about, but his words must have meant something to Edie. She nodded her head repeatedly and nearly fell back into the front seat of Mr. Kelly's car. The nurse and the orderly lifted Edward easily into the waiting wheelchair. They had one for me but I refused to leave Edward's side. I turned as they began wheeling Edward forward to watch Edie and Mr. Kelly drive away, wondering if I would ever find out what Edward had meant about Tom.

* * *

Carlisle was waiting in the room that they took us to, sitting on the edge of the bed. I had never seen him look tired, but today he looked exhausted. He rose as soon as he caught sight of us in the doorway.

"Elizabeth," he said softly. He pointed to the other bed sternly. "Sit. Now. You've been doing too much, I can see."

Without any argument I complied. What was it about him? Even in the midst of my grief over my Edward and my current fever, he moved me. It wasn't love nor was it anything like love.

_Maybe it was respect_, I thought as I sat on the bed and watched the way he handled everyone in the room with authority. I wondered about the room in which we found ourselves. We were alone, aside from the hospital staff. I knew that this might be the least crowded room in the entire hospital. Was Carlisle really that influential that he could procure a private room for his friends?

Carlisle himself helped the orderly lift Edward into the bed. I saw his lips moving as he lifted Edward, but I couldn't make out anything that he was saying; his lips seemed to be moving too fast for me to make out any syllables. The orderly and nurse left, leaving Carlisle alone to finish his examination.

"Elizabeth," he said to me in his soft, commanding voice. "I asked you to sit down."

I looked around, not having realized that I had gotten up let alone reached Edward's bedside. I looked up at Carlisle.

"Please?" I asked. I blinked my eyes and he was at my side easing me into the bed.

"You are very fevered yourself," he said. I looked around again, unsure of how I had gotten back to my own bed.

"What?" I choked. "How? I don't understand."

"Please, rest," he said gently as a nurse came in to help me undress and get into the bed. "Do it for Edward, Elizabeth. Rest for him. Let us take care of him."

He pulled a curtain around my bed and I heard him walk over to Edward's bedside again. A new nurse was helping me out of my fever soaked clothes and into a dry hospital gown. I tried to focus on the words that Carlisle was saying to another nurse about Edward, but the fever was making it difficult for my mind to stay focused. I heard _epinephrine_ and somewhere in my fevered brain I remembered that was the drug that had helped Edward breathe easier. I also heard _cyanosis_ and fear lapped at my mind.

Suddenly I heard another set of footsteps, loud and clumsy sounding compared to Carlisle's.

"Dr. Cullen," a loud, male voice said harshly making my eyes wince shut. I hadn't noticed my headache until that moment.

"I know," the small nurse helping me said softly and conspiratorially. "Dr. Harding's voice is such a shock after getting used to Dr. Cullen's voice."

I could tell that the young girl was quite smitten with Dr. Cullen, but I couldn't be bothered with her at the moment. I wanted to hear what was being said. It was nearly impossible to hear the soft murmurings that were clearly coming from Carlisle, but it was clear enough what was being said just by hearing the harsh tones coming from Dr. Harding.

"I thought your shift ended a hour or so ago," he brayed.

There was a pause in which time I heard the whispering sound of covers being moved and the sound of my son moaning. I clutched at the young girl's hand. "Please," I said, rolling my eyes towards the curtain.

"Of course," the nurse said kindly. "You want to see your boy."

She whisked over and pulled the curtain back. Edward's eyes were closed and Carlisle was close to his side. Both of the doctors looked over at me when the curtain was pulled back, Carlisle with pity and the other doctor with false happiness.

"Go home, Carlisle," Dr. Harding said smiling. "Let us take care of these 'dear family friends' of yours. You can come back tonight when your next shift begins."

There was a look in his eyes that said he was anxious for Carlisle to leave. He made sure to stay on the opposite side of the bed from Carlisle.

"I'm fine, Gerald," Carlisle said softly. But Dr. Harding was already holding up his hand.

"Look at those dark circles under your eyes," he said, clicking his tongue in a poor impression of a mother's disapproval. "When was the last time that you slept?"

"Some time ago," Carlisle said with an odd twist of his lips. "Perhaps your right."

Carlisle gave him some instructions regarding Edward's and my care that I neither understood nor truly cared about. As long as Carlisle felt that what they were doing would help Edward, I was happy. I _knew_ deep within myself that this man was the key to Edward's survival. But when Carlisle brought his face close to mine and whispered that he would return at dusk, fear settled into my heart and I clawed at his hard arms.

"But what if it's too late then?" I wheezed.

"Elizabeth," he said gently. "I promise that it won't be too late. You are both breathing strongly. Calm yourself now and everything will feel better for you."

I began to feel more calm the minute that he said that he promised it wouldn't be too late. I knew that he would never lie to me and, somehow, I knew that he could tell.

* * *

The doctors came in and out throughout the day. Soon after Carlisle left, I began to get restless and needed to be closer to Edward. I needed to feel my boy breathing next to me to know that he was still with me. I crawled in the large bed with him and stroked his hair and rested my hands on his chest, willing it to rise and fall regularly. When the young nurse came in, Marie was her name, she just calmly went about her business: checking both of us, replacing the soiled and wet cloths with new ones for me to keep his forehead clean. She never spoke a word of reproach, seeming to understand.

It was the other one, Lynn, and Dr. Harding who fought my contact with Edward throughout the day. Every time they passed by the room and saw me curled up in his bed, they would come in with more and more audible sighs and forcibly remove me from his bed. They would entreat me, for my own wellbeing, to stay in my bed. As if I cared about any of that. As if my wellbeing meant anything compared to that of my son's. On only one occasion was I strong enough to argue with them.

I had no concept of the time except that I was sure it wasn't dusk yet because Carlisle was not here yet. They had come in again, their rough and now angry hands lifting me away from my son as I clawed weakly at the bed trying to stay with him.

"You don't understand what you are doing to yourself, Mrs. Masen," the nurse, Lynn, was saying now.

"Really, you're hurting your chances every time you get up," Dr. Harding said through gritted teeth as I lay limp between the two of them. Surprising myself, I nearly hissed at him.

"Do you have children," I ground out. "Either of you? Do you have babies?"

They looked up at each other and I was sure that the look that passed between them was one of mingled annoyance and pity that my fever had risen so high that I was becoming difficult.

"No, dear," Lynn cooed at me.

I grabbed at the fabric of her dress and pulled her masked face close to me.

"Then don't talk to me about what is good for me. Because the only thing that is good for me is what saves him. Do I make myself clear?"

Her face was shocked, but in the same instant, strong hands were pulling my hands off of her dress.

"Come now, Elizabeth," a hard voice was saying. "You don't want us to have to restrain you, do you? Be a good girl and let the nurse go."

I stopped fighting all at once. If they restrained me, I couldn't get to him if he needed me. I hated to let her go; everything in me ached to rail against him for both his familiarity and his flippant disregard for my needs. But I couldn't be restrained. Edward might need me. And if he did, there wasn't a nurse, doctor or orderly in the hospital who would be able to keep me from him.

* * *

I slipped in and out, falling asleep for short bursts until the maternal demands would wake me again to be by Edward's side again. I couldn't resist it; I couldn't resist him. He had been a part of me once, not so long ago, growing in me and taking nourishment from me. I don't think a mother's body ever forgets that and, should the time come that your child is sick and needs you like that again, your body remembers immediately and reacts instinctively to protect and save. That's what my body was doing right now.

The few times he slept soundly, I spent the time thinking of what more I could do for him. I felt my body betraying me with every moment of rest that I gave it. It wanted to give up, to finally fall into a deep sleep. But I couldn't let my body do that, not until I got out what I needed to be said tonight.

My head was beginning to hurt more and more as the time wore on. I turned my eyes towards the window and saw the fading red light that indicated the start of dusk. Immediately, I swung my aching head around to the doorway looking for him, and there he stood.

The light from the hallway framed him as he stood there. I couldn't be sure if it had been there all along or if it was just by fever, but I saw an aura of white light surround Carlisle as he stood watching Edward. As I moved my head, he looked over at me. The soft and warm honey of his eyes; the strange white aura around his body. Suddenly, it all made sense. I knew what he was. _An Immortal_. And he can save my boy.

There was nothing terribly rational about my discovery, I just felt it to my core. I remembered his pale skin, his soft voice, and his scent. I remembered the way I wanted to please him and the ancient grief that I caught in his eyes when he looked at my boy as he lay fevered in the bed. Everything about him screamed to me that he was something other from the moment that I saw him, but I blinded myself to that seeing only the man that my mortal eyes could fathom. Now, with the fever burning away my filters and my mortal blinders, I knew him for what he was.

I glared up at him with a new intensity as he walked over to my bedside, ready to take my vital signs I was sure.

"Save him!" I tried to scream at him, but I was unable to force out more than a hoarse whisper.

"I'll do everything in my power," he said in his soft, unearthly voice. He took my hand with his pale, cold hand that just made me more sure of my new understanding.

"You must," I insisted again, desperate for him to understand me. I knew that one such as Carlisle wouldn't take something such as this lightly. He must know for certain what it was that I wanted from him. "You must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."

He recoiled from me but I held his honey eyes in mine, willing him to see the truth of my words. I fought it and raged against it but the blackness was stronger than ever. With a shuddering sigh, I let the blackness take me, still uncertain whether he had heard through my words.

* * *

**Carlisle's POV**

Could it be? This strange enigmatic woman, mother to the only human who had ever drawn me into a friendship, could she really know my secret?

I watched as her piercing, emerald eyes lost their sharpness and the black unconsciousness took her away. Her breathing, all at once, became more labored and the fever, already too high, began to soar even higher. I could feel the heat hitting my sensitive skin sickly, telling me that it wouldn't be long. But she didn't sink into unconsciousness peacefully. She tossed and fought and I knew that she was fighting to be with him.

Her love for him was overwhelming. I had rarely gotten close enough to see family bonds before so I had never witnessed the fierce and primal passion that a mother could feel when protecting her child. It was animalistic almost. Even as she inched closer and closer to death, she fought to stay with him. Could she really know what I was and want that life for her beloved son?

I tried desperately to ignore the selfish cry within myself which was remembering all of the long talks that I had shared with that human. Edward was the closest thing to a friend that I had had in over a century. Because of my nature, I didn't see very many of my own kind; they shied away from my alternative lifestyle. But to be able to create another like myself; raise him into a kindred spirit . . .

No, I couldn't do this for those selfish desires. But the plea was there, hanging in the air around me. I could still hear her in my head, begging me with every ounce of strength that she had left in her to _save him_.

I sat with them, ignoring the other patients. It didn't take much to keep the other doctors at bay. Part of my nature, one that I so infrequently played upon, allowed me to frighten away my would be prey. Their deeply hidden prey reflexes told them that I was a predator but they so easily ignored it for the lures that I had been endowed with. They _wanted_ to believe the façade of a beautiful and kind doctor. But today, I used my predatory instincts and endowments to scare the rest of the hospital staff away from my friends.

I was there with Elizabeth as she passed not even an hour later, her breath leaving her violently and her face locked in an angry and pleading look. She seemed to be using her dying breath to remind me of her plea. I looked over at her son, clearly on the verge of dying himself and knew that she had left this earth asking me to save him _as only I could._

But could I do it? Even for one such as Edward?

_**A/N: Ugh. I know, I know. I'm sorry to leave it there. But, I updated super quick, right? :) Anyways . . . my rationale for going all split personality on you (and let me tell you, it's not something I relish. Me and Edward, we go together well. Me and Elizabeth or Carlisle? Not so much. Suffice to say that I miss EPOV too.). So, there was a necessity for switching POVs in this chapter, although I dislike doing it within chapters as a rule. I really do hope that the three POVs give you the full picture of what happened during this time. I understand that a lot of this chapter is sketchy because it is seen through the eyes of the two people with fevers. I'm hoping that Carlisle will shed some light on everything next chapter (yes, it's CPOV for the next chapter, so you'll get plenty of insight into his thoughts on Edward). About Elizabeth's fevered realization: yeah. I know that I haven't spelled out in great detail why or how she figured it out. I feel that the understanding was inside her all along, as it is for many humans, but she allows herself to be deceived by the clever illusion of humanity that Carlisle weaves. In her fevered state, all of that disappears. And that is why she is able to see him for what he is. She calls him an Immortal, not a vampire. I think this is important. I don't know that Elizabeth truly understood everything about Carlisle. She understood just enough to know that he could save her son in a way that a mortal could not. That's all that mattered and all she looked for. And, in reference to the section where Elizabeth slept in bed with her son, holding his chest as he breathed, that's your very own author talking as a mom. I have a daughter with asthma and I have been in her bed on many a night watching her breathe like that. So, that is where that little scene came from. Oh yeah! A big, huge Emmett hug from me to all of you. Your reviews are seriously blowing my mind. And, its not because I'm averaging about 15 a chapter (which is stupendous). It's because of how amazingly detailed you all are and how awesometastic (is that a word? Call the OED, I will it so) they are. You all find new things that are important to you and that means so much to me. I try to respond to all of them, but if I miss a few its just because I'm writing the next chapter (or my kids guilt me into playing with them! lol). So, seriously, keep up the amazing reviews because they just make me so giddy. Sorry for the long A/N but it all needed to be said. :) Reviews are like the lures of a vampire. ;) ~Jen**_


	16. One Such as Edward CPOV

**_A/N: You will notice that I changed the rating of this story. The way this chapter played out, I felt that some of the vampire situations in this chapter and in some of the coming chapters warrented a higher rating. There will, of course, be no sexual content in this story (no Bella, no lemons . . . sorry), but there will be violence. I wanted to be safe when rating it. Use your judgement. I'm not a terribly gruesome writer, but there are some adult themes and talk of blood in this and the coming chapter. ~Jen_**

* * *

**Carlisle POV**

Because of my immortal senses, I never had difficulty discerning when a human had passed on. But even when I knew that Elizabeth's heart beat no more, still I listened. It was almost as if I could still hear her rasping plea to save Edward ringing in the silence where her heartbeat ought to have been. I walked over to her bedside and gently smoothed her tortured features. I brought the white sheet up and over her face, but it was no use. Her piercing green eyes, so like Edward's, were still boring into my core and entreating me to do as only I could to save him.

In the hall, I heard the sound of a tired footfall heading towards this room. I got ready to bare my unpracticed grimace to keep away the unwelcome help when I sniffed the air and smelled the scent of the young nurse, Marie, who had taken such a liking to Elizabeth and her son. I relaxed my features before she entered the room.

"Dr. Cullen," she said, startled, her heartbeat increasing and blood pooling in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm on my way home. I just wanted--"

Her eyes came to rest on the still and covered form of Elizabeth Masen. She brought her hand to her heart and then made the silent sign of the cross and then looked up at me.

"I knew that it was likely, but still. She was such a beautiful and lovely woman. I'm very sorry to see that she has passed."

She regarded the bed for a second longer and then looked over at Edward. He was breathing shallowly and with great effort. I knew that Marie couldn't hear it, but his heart was pounding, trying to force the blood throughout his body to keep him alive. The weak breaths that he was taking were hardly enough to give his heart the oxygen he so needed. But, even without my immortal hearing, she knew Edward's fate.

"It won't be long for him, will it?" she asked sadly.

"No," I said softly, my eyes never leaving his face. "He is fighting, but it will not be long."

"Such a tragedy," Marie said, shaking her head. "An entire family taken."

I continued to look at Edward lying in the bed. His hair, the same shade as his mother's; his eyes, though closed, that I knew matched her own so closely. She taunted me even through him, asking me again and again to save him.

"I'm sorry," Marie said, more quietly. "I can see that he means a great deal to you. Is he family?"

I looked at her, shocked by her question. Certainly we bore little resemblance to each other. But I realized by the way she was studying my face that she was reading the emotions on my face more than the features. She could see the emotional attachment that I had built up for this family and, in particular, for this boy.

"Of a sort," I said, looking at him again. He had the exact face of the boy I would have wanted as a son.

"He has the face of an angel, just like his mother did," she said softly. "I'll leave you to your goodbye then, Dr. Cullen."

Goodbye? Was I ready for that? Could I say goodbye to my only friend?

After my long diatribe to Edward entreating him not to join the army because I disdained the loss of human life for any reason, could I now walk away from him knowing that I was the only one who could save him? I couldn't will my legs to move away from his bedside let alone walk away from him.

But the better question, and the one more central to my dilemma was whether I truly believed that what I could offer him was salvation. I didn't believe, as my father had, that I was a damned creature. I believed that my life had purpose and that God, if He even entered into thought about creatures such as myself, had a purpose for my kind. But could I knowingly bring another into this life? Looking at Edward knowing that he might never speak again if I didn't act _as only I could_, I had my answer.

* * *

Edward's breathing, though labored, remained steady. I acted on impulse. I released the stops on Elizabeth's gurney and wheeled her to the morgue. Others might feel the chill in the air, but I barely noticed the frigid air. I wheeled her body in and attached the toe tag. Before I walked away, I leaned down over her cooling corpse and whispered to her my last promise.

"I will save him, Elizabeth," I said. "Rest easy with your Edward now."

I walked quickly from the morgue and back to their room. All of my posturing throughout the past couple of hours had warned off potential intruders. Edward lay alone in his room, his breath coming in shallow gasps. I touched his forehead and he moaned at the contact.

"Carlisle," he whispered.

I was shocked that he was lucid enough to recognize me and I began to worry that if he was waking up, my plan would fail. I laid him down and he never made another sound. His breathing was steady, but shallow enough that it would not be noticeable to the human eye or ear. I released the lock on the gurney and began wheeling his covered form down the hall.

No one looked our way as I wheeled him down the hallway toward to morgue. People were scurrying to and fro in the hallway, never glancing at each other and completely intent on their tasks. The sight of a shrouded corpse was all too familiar to everyone right now; no one would notice this one. Nor would they notice its absence.

We got to the morgue and something close to panic settled in my midsection when I worried that someone might have gone into the morgue. I opened the door and was relieved to find it empty of all save the dead.

I removed the white sheet and saw that Edward's teeth were chattering slightly. I wrapped the near threadbare sheet around him and whipped him into my arms.

"It won't be long now, son," I said, surprising myself with how easily the term fit.

I opened the back door of the morgue and we were out. I hadn't run like this in nearly three days, since my last hunt. It felt wonderful to be free again, bounding over the rooftops towards the outskirts of the city where my house was. We arrived in less than ten minutes.

I set him up in my own room on one of the couches. It was only as he lay there that I realized I had no idea how to go about saving him. I had been denying my natural instincts for so long that I couldn't begin to fathom how to take a human. I settled on biting him in the same way as I had been bitten so long ago, on the shoulder and inside of the elbow.

My eyes were drawn to his neck where I could see the pulse beating weakly beneath his fevered skin. Immediately, the hot pulse made the venom pool in my mouth. Instinctively, I turned away and then realized that I would need to give myself over to these natural instincts. I turned back to him and began to feel the pulse of his heart within me and it was drawing me to the warmth near his neck.

I still had a terrible aversion to the idea of causing him pain but there was no way to avoid that. I leaned closer to him taking in his scent, allowing the human perfume to fully fill my senses for the first time in centuries. He was truly mouthwatering.

After centuries of denial, I was amazed by how quickly I was filled with bloodlust. I knew that I would have to reign it in in order to stop myself, but in that moment I was filled with the thrill of _tasting_ for the first time the hot warmth of human blood.

"I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered, my voice harsh with the raw bloodlust. "But I promise after the pain and burning, there will be an eternity for me to make it up to you."

In the flash of an immortal movement, I was on his shoulder and the hot blood was flowing in my mouth. It was exquisite, the warmth and the flavor pouring into me and filling me in a way that the animal blood had never been able to. I heard him moan and try to feebly push me away, but I had never felt stronger than in that moment. It was pure torture to pull away while the hot liquid was still pulsing.

Immediately, I went for the exposed flesh of the crook of his elbow. In the frenzy that had taken over, all I could think of was the blood and getting _more._ Somewhere, dimly, in the back of my mind I knew that I needed to stop. I knew that I could not kill him. But I just wanted more of this divine liquid. My jaw felt locked to his skin.

Torturously, I pulled away from him. The room around me seemed hazed in the red of the bloodlust. I wanted more. Immediately, I ran to the other side of the room and bit down on my own knuckle, desperately fighting with the monster inside of me that wanted to drain him of all of that beautiful life force. Slowly the red behind my eyes began to fade and I was able to see the room more clearly.

My teeth, seemingly of their own will, released my knuckles and I felt the frenzy subsiding. I could see him again and he was not just a pulsing source of blood. It was Edward lying there. Faintly, I heard his heart stuttering and fighting, his lungs struggling to continue breathing. Fear seized me. Had I done it wrong? His chest rose and fell violently and I flashed to his side.

"Please," I whispered, none of the frenzied want left in my voice. "Please, son, come back to me."

I bowed my head over him, willing his heart to continue beating as long as the venom needed to complete the change. Suddenly, with great force, his heart picked up its pace. It was sprinting and pushing the now heavier blood throughout his body. A slight smile lit my face and I realized the venom was in his system now, working its way through his body. He was going to _live._

I watched as his body began to react to the burning venom. I saw his hands tense at his side and his face twist in pain. My dead heart ached for him and the suffering that I knew he was enduring. I tried to take his hand, but he pulled it away, shuddering from the contact.

_Dear God_, I thought. _What have I done? What if he hates me for what I've done to him? What if he always reacts to me like this?_

Then, something amazing happened. His eyes flew open. I knew that he was not seeing anything, but he was staring wildly around, searching for a way out of the fire that was now consuming him.

"Father?" he croaked. "Mother? Carlisle?"

His eyes closed again and I understood that all he knew was the fire consuming him. But my name was on his lips. He had asked for me in his moment of need. He had need of _me_. It gave me hope that he would have need of me later, _after_.

There was much that needed to be taken care of and many things that required my leaving the house. I knew what I needed to do; I would have to call on a friend, one that I hadn't called on in a long time. I looked around me and realized that it was still the middle of the night. My calls would need to wait until the morning, but I would need to be prepared. I had so many loose ends to tie up, so many scenarios that needed to be thought through.

* * *

With the morning light, I rang the telegraph office with the wire I had planned during the night. Edward was not silent in his burning, but he was quiet enough that I could make the phone calls that I needed without leaving the room. Within the hour, I had received word from the telegraph office that my wire had been received and a return had been sent. Eleazar was on his way.

I knew Eleazar from my time with the Volturi while he was on the guard. But, I had gotten word from my friends, the Denalis, that he and his mate had recently joined their coven, seeking out a gentler lifestyle. The Denalis were the only other vampire coven that I knew of that also practiced the alternative lifestyle that I had chosen: they did not feast on humans. I knew that I could count on their help while Edward burned so that I could shore up all of the loose ends for my son. I wanted everything perfect for him when he awoke. I guessed that I had at least until the night before Eleazar arrived. In the meantime, there were several documents that I could begin to prepare.

I knew that Edward would wish to keep his family's house. I had overheard the nurses talking about the young girl, Edward's cousin, who had, thus far, survived the flu and was staying with family friends. Would she be a problem? Could I convince her that Edward was safe without her seeing him? Would Edward even understand that he could not see his cousin for some time? I was ruefully thankful that the girl's mother had not survived. She would have posed a difficult problem for us. I thought that I might be able to reason with Edie should she attempt to stand in the way.

Right now, however, I needed to focus on creating the documentation that I would need to prove that he _belonged _with me. One of the necessities for blending in was learning how to make the system work to my advantage. My medical degrees were all up to date and I had earned them on merit, but my other personal documentation had, by necessity, needed to be forged. I had gotten quite good at it and considered the work that I put out flawless. I had never prepared anything for anyone else, but I was excited at the possibility of bringing Edward into my family.

With all of my being, I wanted to forge the documentation and make him my son. From the first moment that the word slipped out of my mouth I wanted it to be so. But my rational mind told me that this was impossible. We would need to be in Chicago for at least a short while and we would need to make up a story that showed our kinship while still acknowledging his family ties. I would make him my nephew; the people at the hospital already knew that I was close with his family. They wouldn't question me if I insisted that there was more than just family friendship involved in my interest. For the time being, we could continue to use Edward's own birth certificate. When the time came for new documentation, he could make his decisions about what relationship he would like to claim to me.

I knew that the most important gift that I could give to my new son was seeing his mother properly interred. Because of the ferocious thirst of a newborn, Edward would be unable to attend any interment; however, I could bring him to her crypt after his change so that he could say his last goodbye. I did not want him to forget his parents, especially his mother who fought with her dying breath to save the son she loved so dearly.

Once Elizabeth was interred, I would have to make the arrangements for the house to be turned over to Edward. This would only prove difficult should Edward's young cousin want to make a claim. I had heard from Lynn, the nurse that Elizabeth did not like, that Edie was staying with family friends. It wouldn't have surprised me if Elizabeth had made arrangements of her own for her niece; she was an eminently practical woman.

I dialed the operator and was almost immediately in touch with the Kelly household.

"Hello," a warm, female voice answered the phone.

"Good morning," I said in my calm, doctor's voice. "My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen--"

"Oh!" the voice said. "Dr. Cullen. We've heard so much about you from Elizabeth and Edie. My name is Mrs. Ginny Kelly. How are Mrs. Masen and Edward?"

I hesitated for a moment, taken aback by their familiarity.

"Yes," I said. "That is why I am calling, Mrs. Kelly. I regret to have to tell you over the phone, but Mrs. Masen passed during the night."

"Oh, no," the voice said, tears evident her voice. "And--Edward? Is he--?"

"Edward seems to be making a turn towards recovery," I said, calmer and more assured of myself. I had rehearsed this. "The medicine seems to be helping him greatly. I am hopeful that he will have a full recovery by the beginning of next week."

"That, at least, is good news," she said. "Elizabeth and I spoke--before--about the possibility of her death. I told her then, and still feel, that I would like to offer Edie the chance to stay with us."

"That is very kind of you, indeed," I said. "And Mrs. Masen had indicated as much to me before she passed. Did she ever mention her family's connection with me, I wonder?"

"No," Mrs. Kelly responded. "I had assumed that you were a close family friend, but--"

"Actually, Mrs. Kelly, I am a distant relative to Mrs. Masen, from her mother's side. It is my intention to adopt Edward when he recovers from the flu."

"Oh, how very kind of you, Dr. Cullen," she said, clearly relieved that she wasn't being asked to care for Edward as well. "Edward was so very fond of you. When can Edie see him?"

Luckily, I had thought of this as well.

"For the time being, I think that it might be wise to keep them apart. Edward still poses a great risk to Edie as he is still--contagious. Also, Edward does not know that his mother has passed. I think that, perhaps, it would be prudent to let them both adjust to their new lives before we engage in a reunion. Don't you agree?"

"Well, I must say that Edie will be distraught at not being able to see her cousin, but you make a valid point," she said, still sounding hesitant.

"If you'd like, I would be happy to speak with Edie," I offered, guessing that most of her nervousness was centered around explaining the situation to her new ward.

"Oh, would you?" she gushed. "Of course, I would like to be the one to offer her our home. I still think that it ought to be her decision, even though she is under age. But, I think that it would mean the world to her if she could speak to you about Edward. Might I ask you to call back to speak with her later today?"

"That would be fine," I said, smiling. "I will call back in an hour?"

"Yes, that would be excellent. Thank you so much for your help, Dr. Cullen."

"But of course, Mrs. Kelly," I said, and hung up the phone.

I spent the next hour sitting next to Edward, listening to his heart rate and trying to judge how far he was into the change. I knew, of course, that he wouldn't awake for another two or three days, but I kept hoping to be able to have some contact with him.

I rang the Kelly house and was surprised when Edie herself answered the phone on nearly the first ring. She must have been expecting the call. I remembered the shy, young girl that always seemed to be in her mother's shadow and I wasn't certain what to expect. The voice that greeted me was only vaguely reminiscent of the voice I remembered from that night in the Masen's sitting room.

"Hello," she said. "Dr. Cullen?"

"Yes, Edie," I said. "This is Dr. Cullen."

"Thank you for calling," she said breathlessly. "Mrs. Kelly has already told me about my aunt and the good news about my cousin. I asked her to give me some privacy because I have some questions that I need to ask you."

My brow creased; I was unprepared for her to have questions prepared for me.

"Of course, Edie," I said. "Do you have questions about the flu? Or--?"

"I know that you aren't related to Aunt Elizabeth," she said, and took in a quick breath. "But it's okay. I know that you mean well for my cousin. But, I want you to know that I know."

This girl was very bright; brighter than I had given her credit for. I wondered where she was heading. Did she want the house?

"I understand," I said cautiously.

"When the time is right, I want to be able to see my cousin. I understand that is impossible right now because of the flu, but I want him to be in my life. As long as he wants that as well, of course."

I could hear the fear in her voice. I had missed quite a lot in the time that I had spent away from Edward. Apparently, Edie and Edward had grown quite close. She was scared to lose him. I was glad that Edward had this kind of close bond in his human life. I would make sure that, somehow, he could have some interaction with her.

"I'm sure that he will, dear," I said kindly.

I could hear her nod her head in satisfaction.

"Is he--did he--" she stopped. "Did he ask for me?"

"He is still slipping in and out of consciousness, Edie," I said truthfully. "He hasn't been very coherent."

"I understand," she said. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with me, Dr. Cullen."

"Of course, Edie," I said. "I will be in touch with you again, of course, to let you know about your cousin's recovery."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Cullen," she said, clearly with relief. "That would be wonderful."

We hung up and I walked back over to Edward's side. He looked so peaceful lying there although I knew that the fire was still raging underneath the surface. I wondered what else I didn't know about him, what other human ties that we would need to disentangle before he could begin his immortal life. I wondered if he would be willing to allow me to help him or if he would choose to go off on his own. The choice would always be his, but I knew now that loss of him would be greater than anything I could imagine if he chose to leave me now. He was my son, and always would be, whether he chose to stay with me or not.

**_A/N: Well that was a tad less angsty, wouldn't you say? I feel like I need to explain a few things that happened here. I know that the Carlisle we all know isn't interested in human blood. However, I thought that he might have a slightly more difficult time resisting it the first time that he attempted to taste it. We know, when Edward explains to Bella about how someone is changed, that the most difficult part is breaking away after they taste the blood. I wanted to illustrate that here. I don't think there was any danger that Carlisle would stop, but I didn't think it would be appropriate to show him having no reaction to it. I hope you agree. Also, about Eleazar . . . There are certain things that are going to have to happen in order for Edward to maintain his parents' residence (which we know from the Lexicon that he does) and for Carlisle to be able to take him to Wisconsin. For obvious reasons, Carlisle can't leave a changing vampire alone in his house. So, I brought in Eleazar. He's my favorite supporting vampire and he's going to provide me with the type of character I'm going to need in the next chapter. So, there's my rationale for that. I know that this is a shorter chapter than you have grown accustomed to from me, but I want to explain that there will be some overlap in the next chapter, detailing what was going on in Edward's mind during this chapter. I generally don't like chapters that overlap content in different POVs, but it seems appropriate here._**

**_Lastly, I have a favor to ask of all of my amazing readers and fans. Edward's story has been nominated for A Faithful Shipper Award for Best Canon Story!! I'm so excited about this. From what I understand, with the nominating round, the more nominations that a story gets, the more likely it is that the story will make it through to the actual voting round. I have no expectations on this, but I thought that I would put it out there to you, my loyal readers, that if you would like to nominate, I would be seriously stoked. ;) Just the fact that one or two people have already thought enough of the story to nominate it blows me away. So, if you would like to, I've placed the link on my profile page. The instructions are pretty self-explanetory and you can only nominate once. So, thank you in advance!_**

**_Review away, because reviews are like being adopted by Carlisle Cullen. ;) ~Jen_**


	17. The Fires of Hell

**Edward's POV**

The fever was eating away at all of my conscious thoughts. I vaguely remembered walking down the stairs at my house and hearing Anna's voice telling me not to fall. So many voices to listen to, they all seemed to be asking the impossible. I just wanted to sleep.

When we arrived at the hospital, I felt Edie's cool hands on my hand. I heard Mother talking, but I couldn't understand what she was saying; the words couldn't break through the fog of the fever. I focused on the cool feel of Edie's fingers on my hand. Then Edie was saying something to me, I guessed that it was goodbye. I remembered that I needed to tell her something. She needed to let herself go so she could have a happy ending. What were the words again?

"S'okay, Edie," I whispered. "Be nice for Anna and Tom? For me."

That would have to do. I opened my eyes but all I saw was a blinding light that blocked out anything else. I groaned and closed my eyes, sinking into the wheelchair that the orderly had placed me in. The wind rushing by my face as we walked through the halls was barely any comfort.

Someone strong and blessedly cold was lifting me up now. _Carlisle_. I hoped that he would hear me, but he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts. Over and over, I heard him whispering, "Not him, anyone but him." Was he talking about me? Was I really dying? I thought that I was and I wasn't scared about that, but I hated to disappoint Carlisle.

A man with a harsh, loud voice came in and took Carlisle's place. I missed his cool hands and his gentle voice. I didn't like this strange, new doctor. It took too much effort to focus on staying conscious so, when he was in the room, I let myself slip into the blackness.

I hated when they took my mother from me. It was childish, but I was in no condition to feel embarrassed. I wanted my mother near me; she helped me to relax and ignore the burning sickness of the fever that was consuming me. When she ran her fevered hands through my hair, I felt like I was in my own bed at home and this was all just a dream. When they took her from me, I was alone and scared with the dark delusions of the fever surrounding me. I whimpered and moaned but I didn't know if I was coherent. She must have heard me because she kept coming back every time.

But then, she didn't come back anymore. I heard her angry voice fighting with the harsh voiced doctor and the cloying voice of the nurse. The small, coherent part of my brain felt sorry for them; Mother could have a terrible temper. But they were speaking in hushed voices and I couldn't hear anything. I heard their steps as they left the room, every step pounding into my brain with the force of a hammer. I expected her to come back; I missed the touch of her hands on my head. But she didn't come back and I wondered what they said to her to make her stay away. Did they tell her that she was hurting me? I wanted to tell her that I needed her, but I couldn't form the words.

Somewhere in time, it must have been later in the day because the angry light that stabbed at my closed eyes and hurt my head was dying down, I knew that Carlisle was back. I felt his icy, cold hands brush my forehead and it was like ice in the desert. I wanted to grab his hand and keep it to my forehead, but I could no more raise my hand than I could form a coherent sentence. I could hear my mother's voice again.

"Save him!" she whispered.

"I'll do everything in my power," Carlisle said in his soft, sweet voice. It was so much more pleasant to hear him than the other doctor.

"You must," Mother said. I almost opened my eyes because I recognized the fervor in her voice. "You must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward."

What could she mean? I thought of my medical books. Had she read something? Was there a new treatment? I wanted to know what could be done and tell him to give it to Mother first. She was too sick. But I couldn't speak. And I never heard Mother's voice again.

* * *

I had blacked out completely for a long while. When I came to, I felt more lucid than I had, more in control of myself. I felt that icy, cool touch on my forehead that could only be Carlisle. I moaned with the pleasure of that coolness against my parched skin. I wanted him to know that I knew he was there.

"Carlisle," I managed to whisper.

He didn't respond and I began to worry that he didn't hear me. Suddenly, I was lying down flat on the bed. It was excruciating to lie down; I couldn't breathe! I tried feebly to sit up, but none of my muscles responded. And then, everything was infinitely worse. Not only did it feel as though the fluids were drowning me, but now a cloth was covering my face, sending my fevered, hot breath back into my face. It was my shroud and he was covering me to take me to the morgue.

_PLEASE!_ I thought desperately. _CARLISLE! I'M NOT DEAD!_

But it was no use, the gurney beneath me was moving to take me to my final resting place. I didn't want to die in the morgue. I could tell that it wouldn't be long; my heart was losing strength. But I wanted to die in the warm hospital room next to my mother, not in the cold room full of the dead. And, what would Mother be thinking? I fought with every bit of strength that I had to make some movement to let them know that I wasn't dead, but nothing was responding and it would be too late soon.

A blast of cold air hit me as the sheet was removed from my face and body.

"It won't be long now, son," Carlisle said. It sounded so beautiful coming from his lips, but I knew that he was right. I didn't have long now and then I would be with my father.

He was wrapping me in the white sheet and picking me up all too quickly and then we were moving faster than was possible. And, all at once, I realized that only one of two things could be happening right now. I was unconscious and delirious again or I was already dead. I didn't think that I was creative enough to even dream this experience in the midst of delirium, so I assumed that I must have died.

We were moving faster even than the Studebaker could drive, flying over rooftops. My teeth felt like they might chatter right out of my head. And then there was a burst of exquisite pain as my teeth pinched my tongue between them. I expected the metallic rush of blood in my mouth, but didn't feel anything. Perhaps I hadn't bitten down as hard as I thought. It must have just been the fever making everything hurt worse.

Suddenly, I was warm again and lying on a surface that was far more cushioned than the hospital gurney had been. A heavy blanket seemed to be around me and I felt the warmth seep into me. Too soon, the sickly warmth of the fever had taken over again and I knew that I wasn't dead; the fever still raged. But where was I?

I felt Carlisle's hands on my shirt, unbuttoning several of the buttons and exposing the top of my torso. I shivered in delight at the rush of coldness that counteracted the sickly, fevered warmth that was consuming my body.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said. Why was he sorry? I wanted to tell him I didn't blame him for letting me die, but the words were, again, eluding me. "But I promise after the pain and burning, there will be an eternity for me to make it up to you."

_What?_ I thought. _An eternity? _Was he so riddled with guilt that he would kill himself to join me?

And then, all of my thoughts were erased in the most blinding pain of my life. Something, an animal perhaps, was slicing into the flesh of my shoulder, slicing through it like it was butter. I felt the too hot, fevered blood pulsing out of the wound and I could feel the animal's ice cold tongue lapping at the wound. Something cold, yet burning, was touching the edges of the wound and setting them on fire. The blinding pain drove away the cobwebs of the fever and I was completely conscious of the savage jaws on my shoulder.

Too fast, the animal moved from my shoulder to my elbow. A low growl came out of the animal's throat as it bit into my flesh again. The fraction of my brain that wasn't focusing on the torture was trying to convince the rest of me that this was just another fever-dream. But it felt real and it sounded real.

The animal was done and I was lying alone. That was when the burning began, emanating from the two wounds and making the fever burn seem like being wrapped in a warm blanket. The fire from the edges of my wounds began to pulse and surge, gaining strength with each beat of my heart, consuming more of me with every second.

* * *

I was not dead. I was still on the same couch where I had been laid after flying through the air with Carlisle.

Someone was raking my body over white hot coals. That was the only explanation. I could hear another animal growling and screaming in the distance but I neither knew what it was nor cared, as long as it would come and kill me now to take me away from this pain. The fever had been nothing compared to the fire that was snaking itself through my body, threatening to turn my body to ash from the inside out. I knew that I couldn't possibly survive this, and yet I could feel my heart racing inside of my chest, stronger than it had beat in my whole life.

Perhaps I had died after all and this was Hell. No fire could burn this steadily and strongly except one set by the devil himself. But if I was to burn for an eternity, what sin could I have possibly committed to have earned me a fate such as this? Just when my body would accustom itself to the burn, something, maybe a blazing pitchfork, would turn my body and allow new flames to lick at the rest of me. Nothing was safe from the greedy flames. The only thing that was convincing me that I still lived was the steady, frantic beating of my heart that pounded a staccato rhythm in my chest. I could hear screams and cries for help; I began to realize that they were coming from my own mouth. But, my pleas went unanswered. Why couldn't anyone hear me?

Time was irrelevant during the burn. After some time had passed, maybe minutes or possibly days, I began to get my thoughts under control. I no longer wildly postulated about what had happened to me; instead, I tried to focus my thoughts out of my tortured body. It took greater concentration than I had ever possessed, but I found that concentrating was enough to distract me from the pain for moments at a time.

I could feel cold hands try to grasp my own. Their iciness only intensified the burning in the rest of my body and I shuddered away from that contact. I wanted to be immersed in the iciness to put out the flames, but little touches of it on my skin only made the rest of the pain more intense. Somewhere in my consciousness, I remembered cool hands touching me while I was fevered. Were they the same? Who was trying to comfort me now?

I opened my eyes, trying to understand where I was and who was with me. Was this Hell or was I still in the hospital? The sight in front of my eyes was more terrible than I could have imagined. The fire had consumed my sight, turning it to flames. I saw a red haze of what must have been fire in front of my eyes licking around the edges of my vision. A shape moved behind the flames, but it was irrelevant to me inside these flames.

"Father? Mother?" I called out, doubting that they were with me anymore. This was my own personal Hell. And then I remembered the icy touch of moments ago. The iciness didn't remind me of my parents, but there was someone else I cared for who had icy cold skin. Someone else. _Oh!_ "Carlisle?"

There was no response that I could hear, but I closed my eyes content that somewhere and somehow, I might not be alone in this inferno.

* * *

I didn't know how long it was before I began to hear the voice, but it was like a ray of heaven had come to me in the midst of this suffering. Carlisle's voice broke through the haze of fire a long time after the feel of icy hands on me. I clung to that voice with every ounce of strength that I had, using it as a way to lift myself out of the fire and back into reality.

I found that I couldn't understand words coherently; instead, I heard the way the words flowed and focused on the lilt and cadence of his voice. The strange way that the sounds flowed together calmed my mind for the moment, allowing me to think about recent events.

I was now sure that this was no longer the fever burning up my body and driving me insane with the pain. Something had attacked me just after Carlisle brought me to the soft couch. The pain stemmed from this attack, I was sure of it. But what had attacked me? And why hadn't Carlisle been hurt? Or, was he hurt as well and I was imagining his voice and hands? I didn't know the answers to these questions any more than I could tell what had attacked me, but I was certain that the strange animal that had bitten me held the answer that I had been searching for.

When the voice stopped, a new kind of torture began. I could feel the fire licking at all parts of my body at once, but it seemed to focus on different parts of my body at different times. Right now, it was focusing on my brain. I could feel it behind my eyes, snaking in and out of the recesses of my brain. I knew from my research that the brain had pathways that information flowed along. But no one was aware of how these pathways worked or how information flowed through the brain. Now, I could almost feel the fire racing through those pathways, leaving trails of ash behind as it continued to burn.

Minutes . . . Hours . . . Days. I couldn't be sure when, the fire continued through my brain, but for the time being, its focus was diverted lower in my body. I imagined that when it had finished feeding on my brain, nothing would be left except charred ash and I would have no more conscious thoughts. I wished for this, looked forward to it even. Without conscious thought, I wouldn't have the ability to analyze this pain anymore.

Instead, the fire left my mind clearer, like a forest cleared after a cleansing fire. I was able to focus on the pain _and_ a multitude of other nuances around me. It seemed I had enough room in my now expansively open mind to spend time focusing on each area of pain at the same time. And, I found that I was able to hear some voices clearer now than others. It surprised me that I was still able to hear Carlisle's lyrical voice along with another, equally musical voice. At times, these voices were the same as before, just hinting at conversation without real words. Other times, the words were clear, as if someone was putting them directly into my mind.

_He lies so quiet; I wonder if it will be over soon_. I hoped that this new, soft voice was referring to the burning. I wanted it to be over so badly. My mind was able to wish for the burning to be over while still trying to place this voice with ones that I knew. My memories were harder to reach than they had been before. Even so, I had seemed to have no point of reference for this voice.

"I'd give anything to take your pain away." That was Carlisle; I was almost positive of that although the voice that was echoing in my mind was infinitely more musical and beautiful than I remembered it. I could hear all of the bell like notes in his voice ringing in my mind.

I heard the first voice more often than the second. _He's beautiful already_, the voice was saying. I wondered who the voice was talking about. It couldn't have been me; the fire must have burned me beyond recognition by now.

Words and strange pictures began floating through my mind and I wondered where the pictures were coming from: me sitting in a park smiling; the forest blurring past and me bundled into a white sheet; a herd of deer.

_Will he ever forgive me for what I've done?_

_Will he want to stay with me?_

_Will I get to show him my world?_

This went on for some time, hearing with my ears a lyrical imitation of conversation and the feeling that someone was placing words and pictures in my mind. Suddenly, the lyrical voice that had been in my head was drowned out by a loud ringing noise. A series of quick, staccato steps beat into my head and I gathered that someone was walking somewhere. Then, on top of the lyrical voice in my head I heard Carlisle's voice talking. It was a cacophony of words cascading into my already wearied mind. I heard a strangle yelp of pain and frustration and suddenly the words in my ears ceased and the voices in my head got louder and more panicked. Also, I felt that icy cold touch again, this time on my forehead.

_The change must be so disorienting for him, not knowing what is happening to him. I wish that I could reach him, _the lyrical voice said. _Edward, it won't be long. Soon, it will all be over_.

The shock of hearing my name in this strange lyrical voice was enough to make my body snap to attention. The movement stoked the flames of the fire and for a moment all of my concentration was focused on the way the fire seemed to be getting hotter and more relentless, sizzling and snapping along all of the contours of my body. I knew that my movements were fanning the flames, but once I started thrashing to get away from the fire, I couldn't seem to pull back control of my body to stop it from moving.

"He must be in agony," I heard Carlisle saying from far away.

_Perhaps the end isn't far off_, the other voice wondered. _Another day at the most_.

I let out a tortured moan that sounded more feral than anything I had ever heard before. I was losing my grip on reality, the pain was so intense that it was driving the sanity away. And then Carlisle's voice filled my mind.

"Edward?" he said. "Son? I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here, Edward. Don't be afraid. I will explain it all to you when you come back to me.

Come back to him? I was confused. I could hear my voice whimpering and attempting to ask questions, but I formed no coherent words.

_How can I be sure that he hears me? _The sweet voice asked, tortured.

I wanted to tell him that I could hear him, but that I didn't understand him. It took all of the willpower that I had just to stay on this bed of fire and not try to launch myself out of this Hell.

_Give me some sign, if you can, son. Let me know that you hear me_. It sounded like a prayer.

With all of the power I had in my control, which I realized was precious little at the moment, I squeezed at the rock hard, ice cold hand that was wrapped around my own.

"My God!" Carlisle said. "He heard me! He squeezed my hand!" _He's going to be ok._

I groaned and thrashed again, my mind a roiling mass of questions and pain. I burned in this fashion for what may have been hours or just merely minutes. Sometime in the period of thrashing and muffled screaming, I began to hear the steady ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. I could count the seconds as they passed by and the passage of time gave my mind something to focus on other than the strange voices and the relentless fire.

The voice had said a day at the most. How many days had I already endured in this Hell? What would my body look like when it finally emerged from the hungry flames? I thought of the burn patients that Carlisle had told me about, their skin pink and hard and brittle. Would I come out looking like a nightmarish monster covered in the dead flesh of a burn patient?

After some nearly ten thousand seconds had ticked off the clock, I began to feel a change in the burning. It was still there, lapping at my arms and my legs. But my toes and finger tips were cool, as if someone had taken them and dipped them into a vat of ice cold water. _Oh, please God, let them soak me in it!_

Slowly, the blessed coolness enveloped both of my feet and my hands. I found that I could move my fingers more easily. With the receding of the flames came an even greater pain in my chest. My heart, already sprinting faster than I thought imaginable, was racing faster still. With every sprinting beat, the fire receded closer to the center of my body. I was no longer making any sounds, but my body was reacting to the retreating burn and my racing heart of its own accord.

I could feel my hands clenching into strong, hard fists at my sides. My feet were pointed out and away, stretching my body taught. As the racing continued and the burning was now centralized to my torso, I felt my body lifting away from the softness of the couch. I thought that, perhaps my heart was trying to beat itself out of the prison of my chest and away from the flames that seemed to want to come to a rest within my heart. Impossibly, my heart continued to beat faster. In my now cool and clear mind, I could hear the jumbled voices of both Carlisle and the sweet lyrical voice I had heard throughout the burning. However, without the distracting flames licking at my mind, I realized that they were nearly identical. This understanding confused me.

_Any second now_.

"Edward, just hold on. Just a few seconds more and the fire will run its course," Carlisle said gently, anxiously.

And then, _oh!_ the tremor of my heart became faster still, beating so fast that it seemed more to tremble or shake than to beat individual pulses. And then it happened. With three great and powerful thuds, my heart gave out and the fire released me completely.

_Could it be?_ I thought, disoriented. It seemed unfair, after all of the torture and the pain, for me to have died before I could live and experience true coolness once more. And then I realized. I could still _hear_ him. I took a deep breath and realized that I could also _smell_ him. The strange, spicy smell that had reminded me of Carlisle ever since our first meeting was stronger and more defined now. But the action of taking that scent into my nose was all wrong. I felt my lungs expand, I even felt the air whistling down my airways and into my lungs, but there was no relief in taking that air into my body. I was breathing, but it didn't feel necessary.

_What is wrong with me?_ I couldn't decide if this was the in between place, somewhere between life and death, or if this was just another feverish delusion to torment me.

I felt strong. My body felt whole and well and there were no traces of the sickly feverish feeling left in my head. My mind felt clear and sharp and _powerful_ even.

"Edward," the most beautiful voice I had ever heard said too close to my ear. "The burning is over, son. I want you to open your eyes now."

That was it. That explained everything. My soul was free of my body and I was headed to heaven to meet my father. I smiled, surprised at the way I could still feel my mortal lips brushing over my teeth. I furrowed my brow slightly at the strange feel of my teeth as my lips passed over them. They were too sharp, too straight.

Slowly, I followed my father's direction, and opened my eyes. The colors assaulted my senses immediately and I was overwhelmed at once by the way every dust mote was clear to my eye, every separate fiber seemed to jump out at me in amazing detail. I swung my eyes around, amazed at the details of the room. I noted the shadows and determined that it was either night or very early morning.

"Father?" I asked in a strange, beautiful voice. Where was he? Where was my angel father waiting to take me to heaven? I wasn't scared or disappointed anymore; I just wanted to see him again.

And then, without realizing what I was doing, my body reacted to the threat of a stranger leaning in close to me. As I thought about crouching and jumping off of the couch, I was doing so. I was leaping through the air of the room and to the other side of the room, watching as the colors and textures of the room moved below me and I landed perfectly in a defensive position across from the strange man. I heard a startling growl emanating from all around me. I realized quickly that the sound was coming from me, produced by the rolling snarl that was rumbling through my chest.

With the fear that I was feeling, I knew that my heart ought to be sprinting. I should be sweating and flushed in my fear. I felt nothing. My heart was silent in my chest and my body was not reacting the way it should. I looked down at my hand and let out another animalistic snarl as I noticed the pale white skin that covered my hands. I looked up at the man across from me, who was now lowered into a defensive position with his hands outstretched.

I hissed again as I looked at him. He looked vaguely familiar. Blond hair. Pale skin. Honey colored eyes. Fuzzy memories played themselves through my mind, some clouded further with fever. I remembered him. That was Carlisle.

"Carlisle?" I said in that strange, musical voice.

"I know that this is very disorienting, Edward," he said slowly. "But you are very powerful right now. You must be careful. I can explain everything if you will just allow me the time."

I thought of the painful bite that had brought with it the fiery burning. The voices, the icy touches.

_Amazing, _he said without moving his lips. My mind reeled at that, but I found I was still able to concentrate.

"You were sick with the flu, Edward," Carlisle said. "You were dying. I brought you to my house and I saved you from death. I made you like me--now, you will never die."

Never die?

I crouched my body closer to the ground, preparing myself for an attack.

"What--" I hissed through my razor sharp teeth, "have you done to me?"

**_A/N: Mwa ha ha ha. Just a little cliffie. ;) Will Edward attack Carlisle? Will he run away? Suspense is the name of the game. So, do you know who the two voices are? I'll give you a hint . . . Eleazar isn't there yet. This chapter took a bit longer than expected. I actually wrote my first draft with Eleazar coming in in the middle of the burning. Then, after Emerald Star did some research, we realized that in Midnight Sun Edward says that Carlisle "guessed" his gift. Frankly, I wasn't as concerned with staying in canon as I was with being able to write that scene. I can't wait to see the reaction! ('Cause now we get Edward's reaction and Carlisle's thoughts *squeal* I loooove vampire Edward). So, what did you think? This is possibly the most anticipated moment of the entire story. Everyone has a picture in their head of what this transformation was like. How did I do keeping with what you had in your head? I'd love to know if I hit it on the head, or if you pictured something different. And, I know that the coming chapters hold a lot of juicy details. But, you know me. I tease because I love. ;) Reviews are like Edward drenched in ice water. Oooh la la, baby. ;) I said no lemons, I didn't say no nice imagry. ~Jen_**


	18. A New Dawn

"_What have you done to me?"_

I thought the words and felt them come out of my mouth, but the voice that formed those words was foreign to me. My muscles were coiled like tight springs. As I crouched closer to the ground, I felt them tensing to launch me at Carlisle. My body was ready for the attack; it _wanted_ to attack. I could feel that as definitely as I could feel the brush of stiff cotton fabric against my body. I looked down to see myself robed in the too-thin garb of a hospital gown. Another growl, lower this time, rumbled through my chest and out of my clenched teeth. The sound startled me and intensified the sound for a moment. I was an animal.

_How do I properly explain immortality to him? And what do I do to contain all of his newborn energy?_

I remembered that voice. It was the strange, lyrical voice that spoke to me during the burning. Now that I had my eyes open, I could tell that it was coming from Carlisle. I had a fuzzy memory of walking along the street and seeing a man with a wooden dummy on his lap. He was a ventriloquist, Father had told me, and he could throw his voice. Was that what Carlisle was? It seemed a silly deduction, but what else could possibly explain the fact that Carlisle seemed to be talking without moving his lips? And what could he possibly mean by _immortality_?

"Immortality?" I asked in the new voice. "I don't understand--Carlisle, what has happened to me?"

My voice was growing more urgent and guttural as I spoke. It frightened me how much concentration it took to keep from attacking Carlisle. I was wound so tight and every part of my body wanted to spring into action. I knew, intuitively, that I could easily cross the distance between myself and Carlisle in a single bound. I had never felt this strong before. Luckily, I had never felt so wholly focused either. I seemed to have an infinite amount of room in my brain to focus on keeping my body under control and to try to figure out what Carlisle was talking about.

_How did he hear that?_

"Stop _doing_ that!" I burst out. "Just open your mouth when you talk," I added more calmly. "It's unsettling to hear your voice without seeing your mouth move."

_Dear God, he can hear my thoughts_.

"What do you mean I can hear your thoughts?" I asked angrily. "What have you done to me? What . . . is . . . wrong with me?"

"Edward," Carlisle said, deliberately accentuating the movement of his mouth. It was disorienting, because I heard another voice behind his speaking voice. It was his voice, only softer and more musical, running through a list of things to remember. "I want you to calm down. I promise to explain everything that I can, but I need your promise not to attack me. You see, you are quite dangerous."

I growled and hissed at him, frightening myself more. The voice that seemed to come from Carlisle was talking faster and faster but I found that my mind was quick enough to keep up. _Never heard of a gift such as this. Aro needs to be touching. Not surprising, though. All gifts are different. How to explain? Thirst. Hunt? Will he listen?_ I let out a more ferocious growl and heard a snap directly at my side. I hissed and looked down, seeing a shattered piece of wood in my hand. My head moved so quickly that I saw the splintering pieces of wood falling to the floor from the now destroyed straight-backed chair I had been holding on to. I threw the shattered remnants on the floor and began inspecting my hand for splinters.

My first reaction was satisfaction. I had just shattered the back of a wooden chair; the wood looked to be oak. I must be very strong indeed. But I didn't relish the thought of pulling out all of those splinters. I looked at the palm of my hand with its unnatural white pallor. Aside from the usual bumps and ridges that now seemed so much better defined, my palm was as smooth as a pane of glass. I flipped my hand over, amazing myself with the blur of motion and how quickly my body responded to my wishes. Like my palm, the back of my hand was smooth and white, like the finest marble. I could see the unnaturally blue veins underneath the white skin. I touched my skin with my fingertips and the sensation was strange, unnatural.

I looked up at Carlisle, pleading with him silently to explain this to me. I was losing control of myself, I could feel it.

"As I said, you were dying. There was very little time left. There was nothing, medically, that I could do to save you. But, I have other ways to save people, Edward, ways that you have never dreamed of. I am a vampire and in order to save your life, I have made you like myself."

"Vampire?" I repeated. "I'm a . . . monster?"

What little grasp I still had on my self control snapped in that moment. All of the unreality, the confusion, whirled inside my expansive mind driving me crazy. With an unnatural roar, I leapt at the door trying to leave this place behind me.

_NO!_ I heard Carlisle's voice in my head again and I landed square in the middle of his chest. It should have hurt; I knew how hard Carlisle's body was, but no pain came. The sound was deafening, like two boulders crashing into each other. We both fell away from each other. Carlisle smacked into the door jamb with a crack, splintering it into pieces. I fell back on the floor with another loud crash and I was dimly aware of having broken something else but I didn't bother to look what. I was immediately back on my feet, hurtling towards the door again, but Carlisle had moved his position and caught me in his arms, holding me this time. He pinned my arms at my side and locked his hands behind my back.

I thrashed, only using a third of my strength, but I could still tell that I was testing his strength. I was stronger than him. If I wanted to be free, I just needed to fight harder. But then I heard him speaking to me in the strange voice that seemed to be right in my head. It was strangely calming.

_I know that this is all overwhelming and I know that your desires are difficult for you to control, but please give me the chance to explain that I am not the monster you think I am_.

"Please?" I begged him. He continued in his speaking voice.

"The myths that you've heard about our kind are not all true. We don't have to drink the blood of humans to stay strong; we can drink the blood of animals and stay just as strong. You are the first person that I have ever changed into a vampire; I admit that I don't have all the answers nor do I know all of your questions. But I want to help you ease into this new life."

I found the reins of my control again and stopped my body from fighting him. It was still uncomfortable to have my arms pinioned at my side and the animal inside of me felt threatened, wanting to strike.

"Some of us come to this life with gifts. You seem to be able to read the thoughts in my head. Can you tell me what you are hearing when you hear me talk without moving my lips?"

"It's your voice, but it's different. Softer. More musical. And there are pictures as well. Just now, I saw a man with white skin like . . . ours and long black hair. He had blood red eyes. Who is he?"

_Aro_. The word came into my mind in Carlisle's voice but as a dead whisper.

"There is time for me to tell you about others of our kind later. Right now, we must focus on you."

In my distraction, I imagined that I would easily forget about the name that Carlisle let slip into his . . . thoughts; the idea was unnerving to me. But the name stuck like glue in my mind: Aro. I catalogued it and made a note to myself to ask later about the strange looking man. _I'm going to release your arms now, Edward. You won't try to run away again?_ I shook my head sharply and then the pressure was gone. I moved to the other side of the room, illustrating to him that I would not try to run from the room again.

"As I mentioned to you before, you do not have to be a monster, Edward. But, if you leave me now without knowing what I can tell you about yourself, you are likely to become the very thing you dread."

_Will you sit down and talk with me for a few moments?_ he asked me in my mind. I shook my head at him. I didn't want to sit. I found that standing was just as comfortable and the stretching felt good to my muscles. _As you wish_, he said with a smile. _This will take some getting used to, I'm afraid._ I snorted in spite of myself, thinking how absurd it was for him to say such a thing to me. _He_ wasn't the one suddenly reading minds.

"You'll forgive me, Edward? I rarely talk to anyone and perhaps my conversation skills are lacking. I only meant that interacting with you would be a new experience for me," he said.

I nodded my head and motioned for him to continue. I was still amazed by the fluidity of my motions, how graceful and yet quick my body was able to move.

"Your -- desires are very strong right now. If you were to stray too close to a human, you would be unable to stop yourself from attacking. The pull you felt to leap at me when you did not yet recognize me is nothing compared to the siren call of a human's blood."

At that word, my full attention was drawn to my throat where a remnant of the fire still burned away. Immediately, my hand was on my throat, massaging it, trying to ease the ache.

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said, moving too quickly and catching me off guard. I barely clamped my mouth closed on the snarl that threatened to slip through my lips. "You must be very thirsty. We should hunt now, before the dawn's light makes it more difficult for us to venture out."

"Thirsty?" I asked him, still trying to grasp hold of concepts that I understood. I found it difficult to make comparisons; my memories seemed hazy and uncertain in the face of the new, sharp images that were assaulting my senses. A picture flashed into my mind now of deer running through a field and I also got the sensation of . . . thirst intensified.

"I think that I can sense your thirst," I said slowly.

_Fascinating_, he thought. "I'm sorry," he then apologized. "That must make it very uncomfortable for you. I will try not to think of the blood until we have hunted."

He looked down, clearly perplexed with the prospect of how to handle me. I suddenly felt like a burden to him. In his own words and mind, he saved me. And yet, he wasn't expecting what I had become. I saw him reach up and stroke his chin, wondering what to do with me. _Knowing_ what he was wondering was awkward for me; knowing that he knew I knew was stranger still.

"Clearly, this is going to be a problem," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose and exhaling deeply.

_He's going to want to leave. I can't let him leave._

I held up my hand and I looked back at him.

"I don't wish to leave you," I said. "I only meant that, I don't know how to control what I am hearing and you don't know how to control your thoughts. You can't chastise yourself for thinking."

Carlisle chucked. _That's a very rational conclusion for a quite irrational problem_.

"Indeed," I said, feeling a faint smile touch my lips. "Why can I hear you?"

"I'm not sure," he said. _Maybe my venom_ . . . His thoughts trailed off then, thinking about the exchange of fluids in a bite.

"So, it's only you?" I asked, relieved.

_I hadn't thought about that_, Carlisle thought intrigued.

"I don't want it to be anyone else!" I burst out, stifling another growl.

_Edward_, Carlisle thought with a warning tone.

"I know that this is very difficult for you," he said, slowly bringing his fingers up to touch my shoulder. The touch was not at all what I was expecting. Always, before, his hands were cold and hard. Now, they felt warm to me and exceedingly soft and gentle. I hissed in a deep breath and pressed myself up against the wall.

"What?" Carlisle asked, concern darting through eyes and his mind.

"You're not cold anymore!" I breathed.

"We're the same temperature now, Edward," he said softly. "Come, I took the liberty of having some clothes delivered that I believe will be your size. Perhaps you should get dressed and we will go hunting. After feeding, you may find that your thoughts will be more controlled, more manageable. Perhaps, then, we can try to make some sense of all of this?"

I nodded my head, my breath slowly regulating back to normal. With my deep breathing, I had been assaulted by a multitude of scents. I was amazed that I could not only smell the different notes of scent in the air, but I could _taste _them as well. I inhaled again and was able to ferret out the flavor of Carlisle. That unnerved me to be able to associate a flavor for a person, but the woodsy notes mixed with mint and accented with the astringent disinfectant of the hospital were all Carlisle. The animal in me, which seemed to be the only way I could describe these strange instincts, catalogued the scent so that I would recognize it later.

Carlisle was hesitating at the door, unsure of what to do about supervising me as I got changed.

"You can just stand on the other side of the door," I suggested.

Carlisle chuckled. "I'm sorry, Edward. It's just that you have no idea of your strength. If you wanted to go somewhere, no door or wall would stop you. Even I couldn't stop you if you were intent on going someplace."

I frowned, trying to understand what he was saying. I flexed the fingers of my right hand, watching as the muscles underneath of my skin worked and moved. I hadn't been poorly built before, but now I looked taut, lean, and extremely muscular. I looked up at Carlisle and was surprised to see my smiling face reflected back at me. And then I gasped. _My eyes!_

"What?" he said, crouching.

"I can . . . see myself . . . through your eyes. My eyes!" I said aloud.

_Extraordinary!_ he thought, before answering. Carlisle was ever a curious doctor.

"I hadn't thought to warn you as there are no mirrors in this room. Your eyes will be red for nearly a year until all of your own blood has worked its way out of your system. As long as you keep to the animal diet as I do, your eyes will then lighten to a golden hue. The excess human blood in your system is also what makes you so strong. It is concentrated, and therefore offers you a boost of sorts. How fascinating that you can see _through_ my eyes . . ."

_Powerful, indeed_, he continued in his head.

"Exceedingly disarming as well," I mumbled. "If I am as dangerous as you say, you may stay in the room with me. You are a doctor, after all," I said, full of chagrin.

He appraised me openly, as if he could hide his estimation from me, and then nodded his head.

"Edward," he said softly, "I know you feel out of control, but you are doing remarkably well. I will be on the other side of the door."

He opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him. I immediately felt panic flood me. I expected to feel a flush rising in me as I panicked. It didn't come. I sighed, disappointed that the door hadn't blocked out the thoughts coming at me from Carlisle's direction. He was thinking about where to take me hunting and how to avoid the humans. The scent that he thought of then sent a white hot burn to my throat and made me let out a piercing growl.

"What's wrong, Edward?" he asked. "Son?"

He called me son. It brought back foggy memories that I pushed away for now. Too much already.

"It's just--," I said, and then gave up trying to think of a nice way to say it. "I can still hear your thoughts. The scent you remembered was particularly painful to me."

"Yes," he said lowly. "It would be. It was human."

I sighed, ready to get the next step over with. I reached behind my neck and pulled at the string tied behind my head. It immediately tore and came off in my hands. I growled a low sound of frustration at my inability to control my own strength.

"Edward," Carlisle called.

"This is tricky, is all," I said through gritted teeth.

The hospital gown lay in two pieces on the floor around me and I stood in the middle of the room stark naked. I gazed up at the ceiling, afraid even to look at myself for fear that I wouldn't recognize the body. I blinked my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair, smiling slightly at the familiar movement. The movement was the only thing that was familiar about it. My hair felt both softer and stronger. I balled my fingers into my hair and gave a slight tug--there was no pain from my scalp and I didn't lose a single strand. "Huh," I exclaimed, and then puffed out a breath of air. If was going to get dressed, I was going to have to look at myself.

I looked down at my arms first, holding them out to the sides and turning my head to either side to admire the shapely muscles that snaked up and down each of my arms. I ran a finger along the ridge of one of those muscles and shivered at the softness of my own touch but was surprised that no goose bumps arose from the contact. My chest was equally defined and planed. I stuck out one foot and then the other, wiggling the toes of each foot and smiling at the small, crescent shaped little toe on each foot. I recognized them as my own; however, the last time I had seen them they had been pink not deathly white.

The rest of my body was quite the same. I saw traces of my old self, but everything had been smoothed, hardened and perfected. The quick glance through Carlisle's eyes was enough to give me a perfect picture of my face, but the only image that I could focus on was the blood red eyes. They were the eyes of a demon, a monster. Carlisle's eyes were nothing like these strange, other worldly eyes. They were gentle and warm. And, according to Carlisle, I had an entire year of gazing out of demon's eyes ahead of me.

I walked over to the wardrobe that Carlisle had thought of when he mentioned my clothes and then snickered at myself. For all the incredulity that I felt about this new "gift," I still seemed to be using it with ease. I fervently hoped that it was just Carlisle as he had hinted at in his thoughts. I couldn't imagine the assault on my senses that being able to hear all of the thoughts of anyone that I passed would provide.

I reached out and grabbed the circular wrought iron handle of the wardrobe, bending it as I did so into an oval shape. I gasped and pulled my hand back, staring back and forth between my hand and the now oddly misshapen handle. I tentatively put one finger through the loop and pulled ever so gently on it. The door immediately popped open and thudded lightly against the wall. I shook my head slightly and then began to smile. Perhaps there were advantages to this life still to be seen.

With care, I put on my clothes. In the process, I ripped two pairs of under garments, removed the pocket from a pair of pants, pulled two buttons from my shirt and managed to put my foot completely through my sock. At that, I threw the tattered cloth across the room and roared for Carlisle.

"How in the name of sense do you manage to get dressed?" I raged as soon as he burst through the door, ready to pounce on me.

His frenzied expression was quite comical but the thoughts that followed were even funnier. He was trying desperately hard not to laugh at me as he looked at my appearance, missing buttons and tattered pockets. When he saw the shredded sock lying on the floor, he held up one finger and bent over, wheezing with laughter.

"Oh, it must be very funny for you," I griped. "How long have you been doing this? Ten years? Fifteen?"

He stopped laughing all at once. The thought flashed into my mind and I knew that he had tried his hardest to keep it from me.

_Two hundred and fifty-five years_.

Surprisingly, it didn't scare me. It should have. Before me stood a being, because I couldn't think of someone 255 years old as a man, from the seventeenth century. My expansive mind easily did the subtraction in seconds.

"You were born in 1663?" I asked levelly.

"I was changed then," he said, rising up to his full posture. "I was born sometime in the 1640s."

I ran my hands through my hair, grasping at the idea of immortality.

"And, you haven't--changed--since then?" I asked.

"No," he said quietly. "The venom turns our bodies to stone, freezing us in whatever state of development we are in at the time."

I thought about that and rubbed at my chin. I would never have to shave again. My fingers trailed up my face to my hair. I'd never need another haircut, although it was debatable whether I ought to have one right now.

"You will stay as you are right now for the rest of eternity Edward," Carlisle said. "May I help you with your socks?"

"No," I said quickly, and I read the disappointment in his mind. "It's not that I don't want your help, Carlisle. I want to know how to do it myself."

He nodded, understanding.

"For the time being, it's going to be best if you don't push things or try to make things do as you want them to because you will more often break things than you will get them to do as you want. For now, when you want to put on a pair of socks, first roll them up and then gently work them over your feet with just the tips of your fingertips."

I felt like a fool. I knew that if it were possible, I would be blushing. I did as he asked, moving carefully but still infinitely faster than I would have before.

"Why can I no longer feel myself blushing?" I asked.

His eyes flicked to my chest and I heard it in his thoughts before he had a chance to say anything. _Your heart no longer beats_. Of course I knew that. I had recognized that when I woke up from the burning. I just hadn't thought about it fully until now. I hadn't missed it because I never really thought about when I was--alive? Was I dead? Undead? I exhaled deeply. I had so many questions.

_This wasn't the way I had pictured your initiation going,_ Carlisle admitted while he looked at the ground. "You posed many different problems all at once and I feel that I have left out much of what you need to know. But before I answer any more of your questions, we should hunt."

I stood up, eager to quell the burning in my throat. I headed for the door and then immediately froze. I heard a voice, this one vastly different than either Carlisle's speaking voice or his internal voice. It was a male voice and it was speaking in a strange language, one that I didn't understand.

I crouched into an offensive pose and immediately began sniffing the air like an animal, trying to figure out what was on the other side of the door.

"Who is downstairs?" I asked.

"What?" Carlisle asked perplexed. "There is no one within a mile of this house, Edward."

"I can hear him!" I insisted. "There is someone speaking in a strange language, maybe on the phone, downstairs."

"Edward," Carlisle said, shaking his head. "I can guarantee you that I was not careless enough to bring anyone here just as you woke up from the burning. There is no one in the house."

"There has to be!" I hissed. "I can hear him and he seems to be getting closer."

I listened closer, trying to hear if he was ascending the steps. Suddenly my mind was filled not only with Carlisle's thoughts and the strange male voice, but with at least a dozen other buzzing voices speaking at once. Some of the voices were high pitched children's voices. Others were older sounding voices. It was a discordant symphony of voices and, now that I was paying attention to them, I couldn't make them stop.

I threw my hands over my ears but it did nothing to quiet the jumble of words in my head.

"Edward!" Carlisle's voice called to me. "Edward, please, tell me what is happening! What do you hear?"

"People!" I gasped. "So many people. I hear their voices in my head. I can't block them out with my hands. Make it stop!"

_Focus on my voice_, Carlisle's inner voice said quietly and yet forcefully. _Focus on the sound of my voice and only my voice. _

He continued to talk to me in that way for nearly a full minute before the other voices settled into a background hum. I could still hear the other man's voice quite clearly though. I was panting with the effort of focusing on Carlisle's voice.

"I can still hear the other man's voice though, the one downstairs. His voice is clearer than the rest, though further away than yours," I said.

"Tell me what he is saying," Carlisle encouraged.

I listened to his voice and was surprised that, although I didn't know what he was saying, I was able to remember the words that he spoke. I gasped when I heard Carlisle's name.

"He said, '_Espero que no sea demasiado tarde para ayudar a Carlisle_.'"

I looked up at Carlisle and was surprised to see him smiling slightly.

_That's Spanish_, he informed me. _But I don't understand why you can hear him speaking, he's not here yet!_

"Carlisle," I said. "Who? Who isn't here yet?"

"If he is speaking Spanish and talking about me, it can only be Eleazar. I asked him to come soon after I--changed--you. He is a friend."

"I don't understand," I said. "You said he's not here yet, and still I can clearly hear him speaking."

_Are you sure he is speaking?_ Carlisle thought with a raised brow.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You said that it was just you."

I was backing away from him with my hands up, trying not to think about the suggestion that Carlisle was making.

"It's just occurred to me, you see," Carlisle said. "When you started hearing voices of other people and then you heard Eleazar when he is not here yet. Edward, I think you are hearing the thoughts of those surrounding us."

"But you said there was no one within a mile of us!" I argued.

He looked back at me and, even without being able to read his mind, the thought was clearly written on his face.

_I did_, he thought. _More powerful than I could even imagine._

"Eleazar can't be very far away, I expect," Carlisle said. "Come, let's go downstairs. He will have more answers for you than I could. And I'm sure he will enjoy hunting with us."

**_A/N: A number of you guessed, but now you know. The two voices that Edward was hearing were both Carlisle's: one was his speaking voice (that Edward recognized) and the other was his inner voice. :) I remember in Midnight Sun Edward tells Bella that people's thoughts sound similar to their speaking voices, but not exactly the same. I wanted to play on that as he was getting more and more of his gift during the transformation. So, were you surprised by newborn Edward? I know a number of you mentioned that you thought of him with near-Carlisle-like control. I admit that isn't the way that I have pictured him. I think that, by the time Twilight ends he has possibly better control than Carlisle because he was able to resist the blood of his "singer." But now, suddenly waking up in a body that he doesn't recognize with other people's thoughts racing through his mind, I pictured him a bit less controlled. I hope you enjoy the descriptions of Edward learning how his new body and gift work. Oh, and for those of you that enjoy my long chapters, I have good news. Mind reading Edward makes for nice long chapters. :) Of course, let me know what you think of the chapter. Because . . . (wait for it) . . . reviews are like having vampire Edward stark naked in your bedroom. ;) ~Jen_**


	19. Apex Predator

Carlisle was extremely patient with me as I relearned things that I had been doing my entire life. As we walked down the steps, Carlisle laughingly told me about some of his first attempts at using his new body.

"I didn't have anyone to show me what I could and could not do," he said, shaking his head. I got an image of rotting potatoes colored with utter despair. I wanted to ask him about the memory, but I could tell that he was uncomfortable at having thought about it. Truthfully, I was still slightly uncomfortable with him. I vaguely remembered caring about him in what now seemed like another life, but now everything seemed different. Also, there were so many questions nagging at my mind about what he said I had become. _Vampire_. I had visions in my mind of the dead returned to life, stalking the innocent to feed upon them. They were the things of nightmares. But that wasn't what Carlisle was; he was never a nightmare to me. I remembered that he was my friend. How could I reconcile those two conflicting memories?

Suddenly, I was experiencing the white hot burn again, this time from the stranger who was nearing Carlisle's house. I stopped, grasping the banister for support and making it crack under pressure as the intoxicating scent drove me nearly insane with thirst. These newer, baser instincts that I had so little control over were screaming to run after the scent that was clearly so close to us.

"Ah!" I gasped. "Your friend is smelling a human, I think."

Carlisle turned to me, clearly concerned with the tone of my voice. I saw myself through his eyes and noticed that the bright red demon eyes had turned dark and violent. My lips were twisted back, baring my perfect, gleaming teeth. I was a nightmare come to life, the very thing that I feared.

_Edward,_ Carlisle's inner voice called to me. _Eleazar will not bring a human near us. I need you to focus on me; you do not want to go out and hunt that scent. Hunting that scent will make you into the monster that you fear_.

"I--" I said, choking on the fire burning in my throat. I noticed that my mouth was wetter, full of a strange substance. "I want _that_." My voice was hard and hungry. Before, I could feel parts of myself that were familiar, that I recognized. With that scent in my memory, I was nothing but a demon intent on quenching the aching thirst in my throat with that irresistible flavor.

_I know. I promise you that we will quench your thirst, Edward. But that is not the way_.

I looked at him frantically. He was the only thing in my way and I knew that I could easily get past him; he had told me himself that I was the stronger of the two of us. But something in me, something different and more familiar than the crazed instinct, was telling me that Carlisle was a friend. Carlisle wanted to help me. With great effort I inhaled deeply, filling my nose and mind with the scents around me. I smelled the polished wood of the living room, the faint smell of dust that I could see with my sharp eyes sitting on top of the polished wood, and I smelled Carlisle. Filling my nose with these familiar smells wasn't enough to make me forget that heady scent; I doubted that anything could drive that aroma from my mind, but it was enough to beat the monster back for the time being.

Carlisle carefully watched my return to control, anticipating any sudden moves.

"For the time being, thirst is going to be your primary concern. Governing that desire and learning to deny the natural instinct to seek out humans will be your hardest task, one that will take you many years to master."

"Years?" I asked him. "But once we hunt, won't it go away?"

"The thirst never really goes away, Edward. Hunting will ease your thirst but as a newborn, even after you just feed, humans will tempt you beyond anything you can possibly imagine. We need to be exceptionally careful to keep you away from the temptation of human blood."

My eyes darted around, wondering if it was only a coincidence that Carlisle said his closest neighbor was over a mile away. I doubted it. _Years, _he had said. I would turn into a monster every time that I smelled that intoxicating scent? It seemed unthinkable that I would ever be able to resist it. I wondered how long it would before I gave in to the monster that threatened to control me. Suddenly, I heard the foreign voice of Carlisle's friend, closer still.

"Carlisle, I think Eleazar is very close. I can't feel the scent anymore and his voice is very clear."

"Shall we go and welcome him?" Carlisle said with a smile. I could read the apprehension in his mind. He was fearful that a whiff of the human scent would reach me as he opened the door and he would lose me. Without the intoxicating scent clouding my mind, I was able to see how carefully he was protecting me and I was thankful for his guidance.

"Perhaps I'll wait up here," I said, gesturing to the stairs. "Just in case."

_I'm sorry, Edward_.

"Don't be, Carlisle," I said more lightly than I felt. "I won't say that I understand, but I can feel how unstable my control is. I -- I trust you."

Having said it so plainly, I felt it more fully. I did trust Carlisle. I didn't know whether that trust was strong enough to conquer these instincts, but it was there nonetheless. Knowing that it was there was comforting at the very least.

"Thank you, Edward," Carlisle said, gratitude and happiness apparent in his mind. Disorienting as this mind reading was for me, it was certainly helping me to make decisions more easily. I could see Carlisle's sincerity so plain in his mind that it was nearly impossible not to trust him.

He walked over to the door more quickly than I had ever seen a person move. In my former life, he would have been a nearly invisible blur of motion. But now, I could see every movement and action as he made them. Could _I_ move that quickly? The thought sent a thrill through my body. I remembered the wind in my hair while I was riding in the car next to my father and thinking that was the fastest I would ever travel. With my expansive mind and impeccable sight, I could tell that Carlisle had just _walked_ faster than the Studebaker had ever been driven. It was mind-boggling to think about, but I was nearly certain that what I had just witnessed was no where close to Carlisle's top speed.

He opened the door and I instinctively took a breath of the air, testing for danger. Part of my brain recognized the animalistic gesture that I was performing, lifting my head to the disturbed air and sniffing it lightly for new scents, but the new and amazing scents that entered my nose were well worth the embarrassing gesture. I smelled the pine trees that surrounded the house and the sap that was seeping out of the bark. I smelled the air, fresh and clean and crisp; it was going to rain. And then I smelled Eleazar. His scent was very different from Carlisle's woodsy, mint flavor. Instead there was a spicy aroma, like from chilies and cinnamon, mixed with evergreen.

Just after I smelled him, he appeared in the doorway.

"Carlisle!" he said. "My friend. It is good to see you."

His speaking voice was less accented than I had anticipated, musical and low. He had kind, golden eyes that swept over his friend and into the house. He was searching for the source of the new scent that he was inhaling. It was lilac flavored honey with a touch of cedar; it was mine. I was shocked to be smelling myself through someone else's senses. Eleazar stepped into the room and leveled his gaze upon me. He was tall, with long curly brown. He had a long, straight nose and his golden eyes were boring through me. I noticed that Carlisle shut the door quickly behind him as soon as he was in the door. I relaxed the minute that he did, no longer worried that I would lose control of myself.

_¡Dios mio! Un leer la mente. Potente. Muy poderoso!_

I looked back at him, not understanding what he was thinking, but knowing that he was astounded. I understood his exclamation of _My God!_ Did Carlisle not tell him about me?

"Have you figured out his gift yet, my friend?"

"Yes," Carlisle said, looking up at me.

"Very, very powerful," Eleazar said looking at me in open wonder and thinking about the same vampire that had come to Carlisle's mind when he realized what I could do: _Aro_. "Very powerful indeed."

I looked from Carlisle to Eleazar and then back again. I could feel the panic of not understanding rising inside of me.

"I don't understand," I said. "Can he read my mind? How does he know I have this gift?"

"No, Edward, I can't read your mind," Eleazar answered me kindly.

"Eleazar has his own, unique gift," Carlisle said, smiling. "I told you when I mentioned that he was coming that he might have more answers for you than I would. Eleazar is able to discern the gifts of others."

"He has a gift as well," I said, trying to understand and process all of the information. "What is your gift, then, Carlisle?"

"Mine?" he asked, surprised. "Not everyone comes to this life with a gift, Edward. I don't have any special talent."

I thought back to the time when I was burning and I had heard his voice coming to me as I fought through it. I thought of his patience as I relearned how to get dressed. I realized that I very much disagreed with Carlisle's estimation of himself. And, I could see that Eleazar disagreed as well.

"You have never given yourself enough credit, Carlisle," Eleazar said, shaking his head fondly. "Edward, I believe that all of us bring something unique and special to this life. Some of us have more--exciting, if you will?--gifts than the rest of us. Regardless, there is something special that each of us has to offer."

_He is too kind_, Carlisle was thinking fondly. I noticed the respect and admiration clear in Eleazar's mind as he appraised Carlisle.

_He has a gift of his own,_ Eleazar thought. _He has not discovered it yet though_.

Eleazar was talking to me, using my gift to give me information about Carlisle. I found that when I was using my gift and really focusing on what others were thinking, I was able to ignore the thirst for whole moments at a time. Of course, having come to that realization brought the burning to the front of my mind. Almost immediately, I read the concern in Eleazar's mind, watching me as I brought my hand to my throat.

"When did this young one wake?" Eleazar asked slowly.

"No more than an hour ago," Carlisle said.

"His thirst must be unbearable," Eleazar said. "Edward, accept my apologies. Come, we must take you hunting."

With his mind's eye, he was traveling through a stand of trees and hearing animals moving through forest around him. I knew from his memories that he had seen this area not long ago and that it was near to this house, but I was confused. The memories were crystal clear in every detail; I could see every raised bump on the trunk of each tree and the veins of each of the leaves as the whirred past. But I could see that it was night. I looked out the window more closely and was shocked that I could easily see out of the window into the night, easily discerning the shapes of the trees, the needles on each of the pine trees.

Carlisle and Eleazar were discussing their options for taking me hunting. Carlisle was assuring him that there was no chance that we would cross paths with a human. For an instant, Eleazar remembered the scent that he had crossed and he voiced his concern. I hissed in pain as he remembered and his attention was immediately on me.

"He can sense your thirst when you remember the scent of a human," Carlisle explained gently.

"Extraordinary!" Eleazar said.

"Perhaps it would be best if you went ahead so you can let us know if there is any danger,"

"I do not understand," Eleazar said. "Time is of the essence, Carlisle."

"You can let me know," I said, smiling at Carlisle's idea. He smiled warmly back at me and I felt like a pupil who has impressed his teacher. "You see, I can hear your thoughts from some distance. If you go ahead and find no threats, you can -- think -- about the safety and we will know that it is safe for us to follow."

"Truly amazing," Eleazar said. "Do you know how far your range is?"

"No," I admitted. I thought back to when I first thought of Eleazar's voice in my head. "I first heard your voice in my head about 20 minutes ago. How far away were you then?"

"About three miles," Eleazar said and then looked at Carlisle. "I needed to travel more slowly once I approached the small town to the south. I could hear people stirring in the night and I did not want to be seen running."

"That must have been when you came across the human," I mused, absentmindedly stroking my throat where the fire still burned.

Eleazar smiled. _You are already using your gift quite naturally, Edward_, he thought.

I grimaced back at him. After all, I didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Perhaps if you travel about two miles and make sure that the coast is clear we can be sure that you will still be within my range," I suggested. "Oh, and Eleazar? Perhaps you can remember to think in English?"

"That sounds reasonable," Eleazar agreed, chuckling. He turned to Carlisle. "It will give you some time to go over the basics with him. Give me a couple minutes, Edward."

I blinked, surprised by his estimate, and then he was out the door and running faster than I had ever seen another being run.

"Carlisle--" I stammered. "I don't think I can run that fast!"

He smiled at me. "You can do many things now that were impossible before. Speed is just one of the many advantages our kind has over humans."

I could tell that he was reading the excitement in my eyes at the thought of running like Eleazar.

"How do I--?"

"It will come naturally, Edward," he said, walking over to me slowly. I recognized that he intentionally made his movements slower when he was near me, attempting not to frighten me. "Like when you had just woken up and your body told you to get away from the stranger next to you: you didn't think about that action, it just happened. Running is the same idea. It will just come to you."

I was about to answer him when I realized that Eleazar was calling to me.

_Edward,_ he thought. _Edward. This was a bad idea. How am I to know if he hears me? Edward! It's safe!_

His last thoughts came across as screeches in my mind and I instinctively put my hands over my ears. He continued to call to me and I worked to put his voice in the background so that I could focus again.

I looked up at Carlisle, embarrassed. "Eleazar says it's safe. He was worried that I wouldn't hear."

We both chuckled softly and then turned toward the door.

"Are you ready?"

I took a deep breath of the night air and nodded to him, my body full of anticipation for the run and the coming hunt.

"I want you to stay with me. We are going to follow Eleazar's scent. Can you find it?"

I sniffed more deeply and found that it was easy to separate his scent from the other rich scents of the night. The chili scented flavor, familiar and catalogued now, seemed to be sitting right on top. I found that I could easily tell which way he had gone and, even if I was unable to hear him calling to me, my nose would have been able to tell me where to go. I nodded to Carlisle, impressed with my ability to ferret out the scent.

"Good. We are going to the local forest preserve to hunt; there should be enough deer and small game to satisfy us for this evening. Come, Edward. Let's run."

He took off and immediately I was running with him. With no real effort on my part, I was able to hurtle my body through the dark night, following the scent and easily keeping pace with Carlisle's whirlwind running, never coming close to a collision with one of the trees. I was amazed at the capability of my mind! I could see each needle of every tree as I passed it, I had time to catalog it, and I was still traveling faster than I had ever dreamed possible. We arrived at Eleazar's side in under one minute's time, exhilaration coursing through my body.

"Can we keep going?" I asked.

They both chuckled at me.

"We have about five more miles to go before we are fully inside the preserve," Carlisle said. He tilted his head up to the air and sniffed, testing the air around him. "Now, Edward. Tell me what you smell and where it is coming from."

I lifted my head, imitating Carlisle's motion and took in the rich air. I smelled both of the vampires on either side of me as well as the heady scent of the night air. There were the trees and the still soft dirt, but I knew that those were not the smells he wanted me to find. I sniffed more deeply, turning my head from side to side to take everything in and that's when I smelled it.

"Something warm and wet," I said. "It smells . . . different than the human smell, but still it makes my throat burn."

"Where is it?" Carlisle asked.

"To the north," I said. "I can't tell how far--"

I trailed off. It couldn't be more than a mile, could it?

"It's actually to the northeast and it is about four and a half miles away. What you smell is a herd of deer with at least two bucks."

Four and a half miles? I looked at Carlisle awestruck at the concept.

_Suspend your disbelief for now, Edward. I promise to explain more to you after we have hunted_.

"Let's go," Carlisle said.

We were off: darting through the trees, moving together without difficulty. I found that this time, while focusing on the smell of the deer that awaited us, my running was more focused and I easily outpaced both of the others. I heard them just behind me running with me.

_Edward!_ Carlisle and Eleazar called to me. Remembering Carlisle's warning to me, I stopped reluctantly when they called me. Eleazar blew past me but Carlisle stopped at my side.

"I smell something different," I said, hunger creeping into my voice and making it harder, more foreign.

"I smell it too," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly. "It smells so much better than the deer."

"It's a coyote," Carlisle said. "If you can find it, it's yours."

Panic seized me for a split second and I looked at Carlisle unsure.

_Edward,_ he said, sensing my hesitation. _There isn't a predator out here more dangerous than you tonight_.

I smiled at him and was off in the direction of the delicious smell. The night seemed to make the scent even more appealing to me. I should have been blind; I had looked at Carlisle's wall clock and realized that it was just two in the morning when Eleazar had arrived. But the night held no darkness for me now; it was pure exhilaration and excitement.

I found the source of the scent without any trouble. It was a large coyote, perhaps forty-five or fifty pounds. She was stalking something in the darkness, one of the smaller animals. I sensed the blood of the smaller animal and was surprised to hear its heartbeat as well. But its blood could not distract me in the least from the larger meat-eater who had not noticed my quiet approach. I stood still, watching her as she stalked her prey.

Her prey, a small jackrabbit, was much more aware of me than she was. At my approach, it froze in its grazing. Sitting up on its hind legs, it twisted its ears to the side. I heard its heart begin to pound faster and could smell the adrenaline as it rushed through the animal's blood. Carlisle was right; the rabbit was more afraid of me than it was of the coyote.

The jackrabbit took off away from me, sensing that I was uninterested in it, but the coyote had just noticed me through the trees. She stared at me and I instinctively crouched into the offensive stance that I had assumed back at the house. Through the trees, I watched as the coyote's ears twitched and her muzzle began to curl in a warning growl. Surprisingly, an answering leer was forming on my face and a growl was rumbling in my chest.

The coyote's tail dropped and her heart rate sped, sending more of her scent into the night. She realized, too late, that the quarry she thought she had found was more dangerous than she could have imagined. She dropped down on her haunches, showing me her submission. In that split second, a loud growl ripped out of my lips as I leapt from my crouch over to where she was. She yelped, making an attempt to turn around and run but I was much to fast for her.

I was on top of her warm body before she had even moved from the spot where she had stopped. Her strong, lean muscles working under my hard hands, desperately trying to speed her away from the threat did nothing to push her away from me. I saw her head turn around in a snarl to try to bite down on the hand that was holding her, but her teeth made futile scraping noises and found no purchase on my skin. Her hind legs drew up to try to push me away, but like her teeth, they were ineffectual against the granite of my chest.

There was no hesitation now. I turned her head and my razor sharp teeth were on her throat in under a second. The bite was too large and I felt the hot blood flowing in my mouth, but also spilling to the ground as well. I was done with her and threw her limp body off of me in disgust. Fur and blood clung to me as I stood, wildly looking around for more. My thirst, barely sated from the tiny coyote, was now raging and pulsing with the small taste that it had gotten. I wanted more.

Carlisle and Eleazar were next to me in the next minute as I swung my head from side to side, desperately seeking out more of the scent. I could hear Carlisle reminding me of the deer that were nearby, but I wanted more of the intoxicating scent that the coyote brought.

"That is because the coyote is a meat eater," Eleazar explained to me, when I looked longingly at the broken body of my kill. "She and her kind smell and taste more like humans to us because of their diet."

I sniffed the air, eager to find more like her. She couldn't be the only predator hunting this evening.

"There are no more coyotes here tonight," Carlisle said quietly. "Come, let's find the herd. There will be plenty for all of us."

A low growl came out of my lips, unbidden and surprising me. Carlisle chuckled.

"We will hunt after you," he said. _Newborns are very protective of their kills, Edward. We won't threaten you_.

I realized that I was beyond speech at the moment. As I hunted the coyote, I had given myself over to the baser instinct that led me into the crouch and brought the ferocious snarl to my lips. My thirst only barely whetted with the coyote, I found that I was unable to come out of this hunting mindset. I was already off in search of the other, less pleasant scent of the deer.

I took down three large deer, progressively getting more accurate in my bites so that less and less blood spilled out of my kill and more went down my throat. After the third deer, I felt a strange, overfull sensation in my stomach. I was glutted on the blood and yet my thirst still burned dully in the back of my throat.

Carlisle and Eleazar joined me as I threw the last deer carcass off of me in utter disgust. With the thirst slaked a bit, I was able to look around me more rationally. I saw the limp corpse of the deer, its neck broken and twisted unnaturally. I saw the gaping red wound that my teeth had made in its neck. Looking down at myself, I saw the rips and tears that the coyote's claws and teeth had gouged in my clothes, never making a mark on my marble skin. And I saw the blood. Drops of redness were splattered the front of my shirt and had stained the knees of my trousers. I looked up at the two vampires standing over me, not a hair out of place on either of them.

"Have you hunted yet?" I asked them dully, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," Eleazar said smirking. "You look worse than your kills!"

I snorted and nearly ran my bloody hand through my hair before I caught myself. That would have made for a truly macabre picture. Instead, I chose to run my palms on my trousers, seeing that they were already ruined.

"I'm a disaster," I moaned. "Neither of you look like you've done anything other than go for a nightly stroll."

"Oh, don't be ashamed, Edward," Carlisle said, patting me on the back. "Neither one of us was perfect when we were new. As I said, it's all about the thirst right now. In time, you will be able to focus on the details."

"Do you feel sated or do you need to hunt some more?" Eleazar asked.

"My throat still burns," I said, feeling my throat with my hand as I spoke. "But my body feels full. I think I am done for tonight."

I looked back at the broken creature on the ground, horrified that I had reduced the beautiful creature to little more than a misshapen sack of bones. I looked up at Carlisle, my eyes searching his for . . . I wasn't sure what. Perhaps acceptance or understanding.

_Did you not eat meat in your other life, Edward?_ he asked me quietly. _Is this not far better than feasting on humans?_

I nodded, knowing the truth of his statement. I didn't want to be a killer and, right now, I wanted Carlisle's acceptance more than anything. I stood then, expecting my muscles to be sore from overuse and my mind to feel sleepy after the rush of excitement and newness that I had experienced today. Surprisingly, I felt the same now as I had when I had first woken from the fire. My muscles felt just as strong, my mind just as sharp. I was bewildered; I had expected to go back Carlisle's house and fall directly asleep.

"Why aren't I tired?" I asked, stretching.

"You won't ever be tired again, Edward," Carlisle said softly. His mind was wandering, moving quickly through images that I didn't understand. I realized that he was thinking about some of his memories and I wanted to give him some privacy. I looked into Eleazar's mind for the moment, and saw that he was thinking similar thoughts, but ones that didn't seem to be as private or as painful as Carlisle's.

"What did you think, Edward?" Eleazar asked.

I thought of my disgust as I looked at the cooling corpse of the deer. But then I remembered running and the hunt itself. I began smiling.

"It wasn't as bad as I expected," I said.

"I guess that is as much as we can expect right now," he said kindly.

"Perhaps the two of you can continue ahead of me while I cover the carcasses?" Eleazar said and instantly turned around. Carlisle barely noticed, lost as he was in his thoughts.

I caught a familiar name in Carlisle's thoughts as we began to run. He was thinking about _Elizabeth_, my mother. He was lost in thought and not thinking about me or my mind reading at the moment. I knew that I ought to give him privacy when he had left himself so unguarded, but he was thinking about my mother. I was ashamed that I hadn't really thought about her since I had awoken and attributed my thoughtlessness to the unbearable thirst. I found that my own memories of her were clouded by the haze that seemed to surround all of my human memories. Carlisle's memory, on the other hand, was crystal clear and sharp.

She looked so sick and wild with the fever as I saw her through his eyes. Her bronze hair was crazy and plastered to the sides of her face. Her face was beautiful to me even in her sickness. I wanted to reach out and touch her, let her know that I was well. She seemed so scared. And then, the vision changed as he was wondering about a promise he had made to her. I saw myself covered in blood and sucking a buck dry. His mind switched back to the vision of my mother--only this time, her tortured features were still and a pale white hand was reaching down to smooth her features and cover her face with a sheet. My mother was dead.

Through his eyes, I had just watched my mother die. All at once, I stopped running. Carlisle froze just in front of me, turning back to see what had given me pause and the look on my face was enough to bring them instantly to my side. I could feel the sob growing inside of me, but before I could let it out, Carlisle reached his hand out to me, speaking to me in my mind.

_Edward,_ he thought softly. _Son?_

It was the wrong thing to say. I angrily swatted at his hand, the sob replaced by an angry snarl.

"Don't call me that!" I spat. "You--you let her die! You could have saved her too, but you let her die!"

He thought back and realized what had happened, realized what he had been thinking of. Chagrin and shame crossed his mind, but he did not speak to me in my mind. Instead he raised his clear, golden eyes to mine and the sorrow was evident in his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Edward," he said. "That is not the way that I wanted you to find out. I forgot . . ."

He touched the side of his head, indicating just what he had forgotten: that his thoughts were no longer his own. I knew this, rationally, that he had not intended the pain that he had just caused, allowing me to witness my mother's death when I was so unprepared, but still my mind raged in uncontrollable sadness. The sob was ripping at my chest now and it emerged from my mouth a hollow sound of grief.

"Why?" I asked of him and the sky all at once.

_I won't pretend to understand your grief or your confusion. But, please, let me try to explain._

"Why did you do this?" I asked him savagely. "I could be with my mother and father right now. Why?"

I was angry that he had stolen away my chance to join my parents in heaven; instead, I was doomed to an--existence--centered around bloodlust and killing. I was truly a monster. How could he have ever justified this?

_Please. Allow me to show you everything. Maybe then you can understand._

I found that as he recalled this vivid memory of her, I was able to step inside his head and experience it along with him, as if I was watching the scene from his eyes.

_He had walked into the hospital room and her eyes were frantic with the fever and her desire to stay awake for her son. He could tell that she had severely hurt her chances of recovery by refusing to rest. As he walked into the room and brushed her son's forehead, she called out from her bed in a strange, raspy voice: "Save him!" He knew that the boy was fading quickly; there was little that could be done for him. He promised to do all he could, trying to ease her mind. She grasped him frantically with her hot, fevered skin. "You must! You must do everything in __**your**__ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward." She had lost consciousness after that and he watched as the life slipped away from her, wondering how she could have possibly guessed his secret._

Along with the vivid vision, I heard all of his doubts and misgivings. I watched as he weighed my mother's request with his own desires. For the first time, I realized how important my friendship had been to him, the first human friendship that he had ever allowed himself. I saw with him the nurse who had come in, highlighting my impending death. I then saw his horror at the thought of goodbye. But I could see that he hadn't changed me for his own selfish desire to keep my companionship; rather, it was my mother's plea which had persuaded him. It came down to her desire to see her son live on.

"You see, Edward?" he pleaded with me. "I promise you that I did not do this for myself. Although I care for you as a son, I did this for her."

I nodded, the pain still fresh and raw in my dead heart. I stood, waiting for the tears to come pouring down my cheeks as I grieved for the mother to whom I could never say goodbye. And then I realized that the tears would never come. I could feel the ache in the back of my eyes, but I couldn't feel the wetness that signaled to start of tears. Carlisle looked sadly back at me and shook his head slightly, knowing without my saying what I wanted to know. He spoke clinically, like a doctor, but I could still hear the sadness in his voice.

"Venom is the only fluid that your body produces now, Edward, you cannot shed tears anymore," he said aloud. _But the venom does not stop your emotions. You will still feel grief, perhaps more intensely than before. I--I understand if you are angry with me._

The pain in his mind was almost equal to my own. This was his worst fear: that I would hate him and want to leave him. But I could not hate him and I did not want to leave him; not now, knowing what I now knew. Eleazar had rejoined us at some point, and was now staring between Carlisle and I trying to determine what had happened. He was also trying decide how much of a threat I posed. _Because I am a monster_, I told myself.

I looked at Carlisle searchingly, still unsure how to handle our relationship. I was only vaguely aware that I was making noises in my grief. Carlisle began to walk toward me, shrugging off Eleazar as he tried to stop him. Eleazar was worried about my unstable newborn emotions, but Carlisle only wished to comfort me. There was no fear in his mind as he approached me. He wrapped me in his arms then and I gladly leaned against him, forgetting my anger and letting the grief wash over me. I had a dim human memory of a scene much like this one in a hospital hallway just before my father passed away.

"I'm sorry," I said, as he released me. "I'm sorry for blaming you."

_There's nothing to apologize for, Edward, _he thought squeezing my shoulder.

"Come," he said. "You must have many questions. Let's go back to the house and I will answer your questions to the best of my ability."

**_A/N: As a slight aside, I've decided that I need to have a reference to socks in the rest of my chapters since that seemed to be the overwhelmingly favorite part from last chapter. :) I wanted to address a few concerns about vampire Edward here. Many of you were concerned that Carlisle and Edward weren't closer in the last chapter. I apologize that it seemed that way but, looking back, I think that it may have been unclear just how little time had elapsed in the last chapter from the time he woke up from the burning to the end of the chapter. It was really only about forty-five minutes. Not a lot of time for him to take in the fact that this "man" was really a vampire who had bitten him and put him through the worst pain of his existence to turn him into a vampire as well. I think the fact that Edward was able to remember Carlisle enough not to attack him was very telling. And, I hope that this chapter eases your concerns as well. You can see the relationship developing more here. But, it's going to take time. Because they knew each other before isn't going to mean that they don't need to get used to each other. That trust and bond is going to have to build. But they have a foundation to build on so it will make it easier for them. Also, about Edward's control. I was actually concerned that I made him too controlled. Please remember that the only newborn that we've seen SM write about is Bella who knew what she was getting into and had some sort of crazy control. Edward had neither of those advantages. He was disoriented and in a body that he didn't understand. It's only natural for him not to be able to control his movements or his emotions. I know we all have a picture of Edward as the world's coolest vampire, but I think he might be a bit less than smooth right now. Don't worry. Smooth Edward will be here soon. I'm going to be making some updates to my profile page with some awesome new links. I need to send a big thank you out to Peanut1981. She is the You Tube Queen. She hooked me up with some great videos of coyotes, mountain lions, and deer, all of which helped greatly in writing the hunting scenes. I will put some of them up. I can assure you there will be no blood but they will give you a glimpse at these beautiful creatures and how they move. If you enjoy this chapter, send me a little review. Because reviews are like the intoxicating scent of Edward. Or socks. LOL ;) ~Jen_**


	20. Through the Looking Glass, Darkly

We ran back to the house in what was, for Carlisle and Eleazar, near silence. For me, it was somewhat louder. As well as my internal keening for my mother, I now had both Carlisle's and Eleazar's thoughts screaming in my mind.

That was unfair. They were trying quite hard to keep their thoughts to themselves. But truthfully, no one can stop thinking altogether. As they catalogued the world around us, I heard them. As they thought of things they wanted to tell me, I heard them. As they pitied me and my grief, I heard them. I heard them in everything that they thought and it was nearly maddening. I wondered if my mind would ever be my own again.

As we approached the stand of pines that was about a mile from Carlisle's house, Eleazar was thinking about his mate, Carmen, and how much he missed her already. He was thinking that she would have liked to meet me and that she would have enjoyed seeing Carlisle again, but he was still glad that she wasn't anywhere near the unstable newborn. _Sorry Edward, I keep forgetting._ I grunted my acceptance of his apology and then noted that his thoughts shifted to Spanish. I still got mental images of the people and things that he was thinking of; but without a mental dialog that I could understand, the pictures meant little to me. At least Eleazar's native language afforded his mind some privacy from my mind's prying eyes. Carlisle had no such luxury.

Carlisle's mind was a complete snarl of thoughts. Images of my mother snarled with images from anatomy books that he had read. My tortured expression as I burned blurred with stunningly grotesque artwork that he had seen in some foreign museum. An image of my father smiling at him over a sheet of paper turned into a random newspaper clipping about the flu.

I realized quickly that all of Carlisle's initial thoughts centered around me and that the rest were his attempts to save me from his thoughts. Some part of me, the part that I recognized as the most _human_ part of me, was grateful for his concern and care. That part of me was grateful to have a man such as him in my life. Another part of me, one that I associated with monsters and nightmares, hated Carlisle for what he had done to me and what he had stolen from me. I had been running behind Carlisle, but that thought made me growl and let out a burst of speed that hurtled me in front of him. We were close enough to the house that I was able to see it with my perfect vision. Although I wasn't winded in the least from the run, I pounced onto the porch and bent over breathing quickly in mock exhaustion in an attempt to clear my head of the vile thoughts.

"That was an impressive burst of speed, Edward," Carlisle came up cautiously behind me and patted my shoulder gently, "even for a vampire."

I looked at him skeptically, but realized that I could read the perfect sincerity in his mind. He smiled genuinely at me.

"Is is just because I'm a newborn?" I asked him as he opened the door and ushered me inside.

"Possibly," he said, considering. "Still, you are quite fast. It's possible that you will always be extremely fast. Do you remember if you were a fast runner -- before?"

I frowned, trying to remember myself before.

"Everything is confusing and jumbled," I said, still frowning. "The only clear pictures I have are the ones that I saw in your mind. The rest are hazy and don't make much sense."

"That is common," Carlisle said. "We lose a lot of our human memories after the change. I have retained very few memories of my time before my own change. But I remember every moment from the time I awoke to this new life."

I thought about my life since I woke up and I was able to recall every moment, down to the most minor detail. I knew that, without any direction, I could find my way back to the wilderness preserve and even back to the same stand of trees where I made my first kill. Every facet of the night was burned in my memory and I hadn't missed a detail. But, for the life of me, I couldn't remember what color suit my father wore when we buried him.

"What can I do?" I asked. "Isn't there anything I can do to save my memories?"

"You can think intently on the things that you wish to remember," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "After I was changed, I went back to the place where I used to live and took a few reminders of my human life, things to help me remember."

I saw some of these things in his mind as he thought of them and knew that they were in this house right now. He wanted to show them to me but he also understood that now was not the time.

"Can I go home?" I asked. "Can I go to my house and get some of my things?"

Carlisle was considering it, but Eleazar stepped in, adamant that I not go anywhere near humans.

"Edward, it is too dangerous," Eleazar said in his softly accented voice. "What if someone you knew or loved was there? You might kill them without even recognizing them."

"Eleazar is right," Carlisle said. "Your house is in close proximity to other houses. The smell of the humans surrounding your house would drive you mad."

"Mad?" I asked, my voice rising in my coming temper. "It can be no more maddening than losing all memory of the family that I loved. Nor any more maddening than the constant babble of voices in my head! Nor any more maddening than these emotions that I cannot control!"

I flew across the room and grabbed a chair in my hand, lifting it effortlessly above my head although it likely weighed over sixty pounds. I hurled it at the two vampires standing across from me. Carlisle easily caught the chair without it causing any damage to the house or himself, although the chair was completely ruined. I looked at the splinters of wood on the floor at their feet, realizing that I had thrown that at them intending to injure them, and was sickened with myself. The worst part of it was that I heard nothing but understanding in their minds; they expected this of me.

"Will I never be the same as I used to be?" I asked. "Will I ever remember the person that I once was?"

"I may be able to help you with that," Carlisle said, pondering. _Your gift may be maddening, Edward, but it may be the key to keeping more of your human memories than most vampires are able._

"I don't understand," I said, responding naturally to his thought.

_Think of how I showed you what your mother asked of me_, he thought.

"Of course!" I said. "You can help me to remember! And once you show me, they will be my memories as well!"

"Also, my memories may help to trigger some of your own memories that you can focus on and try to hold on to."

"What are we waiting for?" I asked, eager to see my family again. "Think of them!"

He smiled at me and began by showing me a multitude of faces, all in an outdoor area. I saw sunflowers that I recognized as my mother's garden. There were two people standing close to the sunflowers that I recognized.

"Aunt Clara and Edie?" I asked, looking up at Carlisle for confirmation.

He nodded. "Do you know where it is?" he asked.

"My back yard?" I asked uncertainly. "Wait! It was the garden party!"

He smiled and continued with his memories of that night. I was talking with a pretty girl whom I recognized much easier than my aunt and cousin. "Anna," I said softly. It was a statement and he knew that he didn't need to confirm. And then I saw her. Mother. She was standing with Aunt Clara and Edie as I walked next to Carlisle. She looked so beautiful, so different than she had in Carlisle's last memory of her on her death bed. _Dr. Cullen_, my mother said in his memory_, _her voice crystal clear_. It was so kind of you to accompany my husband to our home. Might I ask how you made his acquaintance?_

"I was afraid, then, that she had seen right through me," he said.

"She was --" I paused, thinking about her. I found that it was not as painful, knowing that she was not lost to me completely. I would always have this memory in perfect clarity. "She was special."

"Indeed," he said softly. He continued on in this fashion, sharing all of the memories that he had of my family.

"Thank you," I said, swallowing hard, as I saw my mother and me arriving at the hospital. I noticed that at some point during our trip down memory lane, Eleazar had excused himself to give us some privacy. I hadn't even noticed when his mental voice had disappeared because I was concentrating so hard on Carlisle.

"You're quite welcome," he said. "I have one more memory that I wanted to share, though."

"Oh?" I asked.

Instead of answering, he plunged immediately into his first memory of me, one that was unfamiliar to me at first. It was dusk and I could see myself sitting on the grass in a park watching people as they passed. Carlisle hadn't even entered the park when he noticed me sitting there watching people. _Even then I knew that you were different from others,_ his inner voice told me. From the corner of Carlisle's vampire vision, I saw a black bag swinging next to him as he walked. A hazy memory of my first vision of Carlisle came to me, a night in the middle of summer when I first spied him in the Center Square Park.

"My God," I said, astounded. "You noticed me, too."

_Of course_, he thought, smiling. _I told you that I knew you were different_.

I smiled back at him, grateful to know that even without speaking to me, I had caught his attention.

"Edward," he said, shaking off the memories. "I know that you barely remember me, but you have always been special to me. I hope that, in time, you will come to remember our former friendship."

"I do remember you," I said softly. "I remember that you were there while I burned; I remember your voice -- both of them."

He chuckled. _When did you start hearing **this** voice?_

I shrugged, unable to give him any timeframe.

"I just knew that you were there," I said. "I thought -- I thought your voice was -- my father."

_I'm so sorry, Edward,_ he thought, thinking back to my first words after I woke up looking for my father.

I shook my head. "I understand now why you did what you did. My mother was always very persuasive when she wanted something," I said, chuckling. "I remember something now that she said before. When I was still considering joining the army, she told me that a mother would do anything in her power to save her son. I don't think this was much different, Carlisle."

_She couldn't have known . . ._ he thought.

"Of course not," I said. "But she wouldn't have cared even if she did. As long as I didn't die, she didn't care what was keeping me alive. I could see that in your memory; I don't need to read her mind to know that and neither did you. That's why you made the decision. It wasn't because you were lonely."

His golden eyes snapped up to mine, appraising my control and my emotions but finding me calm. He was surprised that I knew of his self-doubt, but really he shouldn't have been. _But I have been lonely, Edward._

"I know that," I said. "But that isn't why you changed me."

_No,_ he thought. _You're right. But, still, I've worried that I let it play too great a role._

"Being lonely after two hundred and fifty-five years on your own is nothing to be ashamed of, Carlisle."

_Changing someone into a vampire in order to assuage that loneliness is, however._

"It's an added benefit," I said lightly, trying to make him see that I didn't blame him. I was thankful that he wasn't able to read my thoughts as I could his; he would have seen my anger at him before.

He smiled, but it barely reached his eyes.

"Can you agree to stop self-flagellating yourself long enough for me to get all of my memories out of you?" I asked, attempting humor to bring him back to the present. I knew that this charade of mine could not last forever; my anger and shame would come through in a temper soon enough. But, for now, I wanted Carlisle to understand that in _this_ moment, I did not blame him.

"I've given you all of the memories I have," he said.

"Not all of them," I retorted wryly. "You related your memory of coming to my house to speak of going to medical school; however, your memory stopped with my parents and me exiting the room. I have a hazy memory of something happening after that . . . Would you care to elaborate?"

_Edward!_ he thought, shocked. "You have a much better memory than you let on."

"You've helped to jog it," I joked. "Please? Tell me what happened. I've been dying to know."

_Very funny_, he thought smiling. _Very well._ I saw, again, my parents and me leaving the room.

_"Dr. Cullen," Aunt Clara said. "I'm so pleased that we have this opportunity to speak with each other privately."_

_Edie sat across from Carlisle, unnaturally straight-backed and flushed. Aunt Clara had leaned herself forward, working herself closer to Carlisle in an attempt to speak more quietly. In the background I could hear my parents whispering clearly._

"You could hear us whispering?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course," he said. "I knew then that she had been using you. I was worried that her threats were the only reason that you tolerated my friendship--"

"No," I said, but he put his hand up.

"I know," he said, smiling. "You proved that to me while you were still human."

"I'm sorry to have interrupted you," I said, "Continue."

_Thank you_, he thought and I heard Carlisle's own voice.

____

"I'm not sure that I understand, Mrs. Boyer," he said. "Is there some medical matter that you need help with?"

"Oh, no," she said, tittering into her hand. "You know, of course, that my Edie is unattached and new in this town."

"Yes," Carlisle said in his memory. I couldn't see his face, but something in it made Aunt Clara lean away from him slightly. Still, she continued.

"Have you made any attachments in your time here in Chicago, Dr. Cullen?" she asked.

____

"My schedule prevents most social engagements," he said.

_I noticed that Edie was beginning to fidget. She was clearly uncomfortable and could see that Carlisle had no interest. I thought that she wanted to bolt from the room, but I noticed her darting her eyes at her mother. She looked -- frightened._

____

"But surely a young man such as yourself can't be content with a life such as that. Surely you want a family!" Aunt Clara gushed.

"Someday, perhaps. However, I am not as young as you seem to think," Carlisle said.

"But you can't possibly be a day over twenty-five," she said.

____

"Actually, I am thirty-five," he said. "And I am very happy in my chosen profession and in the course of my life."

_Aunt Clara's face was a mask of disbelief, but it was clear the conversation was over. Carlisle's eyes shifted to Edie._

____

"I hope you don't find me too forward in saying that it flatters me greatly that your lovely daughter would consider me a desirable match," Carlisle said more gently. "But I am certain that one day a younger, more deserving man than I will make her a happy match."

_He rose and turned from them before Aunt Clara could say another word but not before I could see the small smile forming on Edie's face._

"Thank you," I said.

"For the memory?" Carlisle asked.

"For being gentle with Edie," I said. "I think Aunt Clara made life very difficult for her."

"She seemed different at your father's funeral and when she accompanied you and your mother to the hospital," he said. _Do you remember?_

"Tom!" I said, getting a hazy picture in my mind of my good friend. I was surprised by how difficult it was to remember him without Carlisle's added help. "I can't remember everything, but I think that Tom had a lot to do with her change. Do you think . . . Does she think that I died?"

"No," he said. "Edward, I would prefer to leave legal discussions for another day. However, I have taken steps to ensure that you will inherit your parents' house and estate as they would have wanted. In order for that to happen, people have to think that you survived the disease."

"But--" I spat, standing quickly and pacing at vampire speed around the living room. "If she thinks I survived, she will expect to see me. You said yourself that it's far too dangerous."

"Edward," he said. _Edward!_ he called to me in my mind. I stopped immediately and looked over at him. "I have thought about this. Will you trust me for now so that we may answer your other questions today? I will have to leave for the hospital by four this afternoon--I've missed my shift these past three days--but I would like to be able to answer some of your questions regarding our kind before I leave."

"How do you know that she won't come here?" I asked.

"I'm glad that you are so concerned for your family, but I assure you that your cousin does not know where I live. It is far more likely that she would come to find me at the hospital."

I calmed down then, realizing the obvious truth of his words.

"It's just--" I said and swallowed hard. "I don't know that I could resist, even knowing who she was."

"And I assure you that we would never place you in that type of situation," he said. "I was planning to leave Chicago soon anyway. I can't ignore the comments any longer; nurses and other doctors are beginning to wonder why I never change. When I brought you to my home, I informed the hospital that I would be cutting my stay even shorter as I had inherited a ward from a deceased relative."

"Me," I said. "Do they know?"

"It was obvious that I was close with your family; it was not a surprise to anyone when I said that I was planning to adopt you. No one even questioned me when I mentioned that we were distantly related."

_Except Edie,_ he thought and then looked up at me.

"You spoke with Edie?" I asked. "Where? When?"

"I called the Kellys, the family with whom she is staying, to inform them of your mother's death. They were sorry to hear of her death, but they were more than happy to care for Edie. I got the impression that she was very happy there."

"But when did you speak with her?"

"Mrs. Kelly asked that I answer some of her questions regarding the nature of your illness and your mother's death. Of course I agreed; it was the least that I could do. Edie is a very bright girl. When I informed her that you would be living with me she said that she was glad, but she wanted me to know that she knew the truth: we are not related."

"Was she upset?" I asked, confused by what Carlisle was saying.

"I wasn't looking at her, so I can't be entirely sure of her motivations, but I think that your cousin is trying to 'keep me honest.'"

_She's trying to protect you, Edward, in her own way. You said yourself that you felt her mother used her. She wants to make sure that I am aware that someone knows the truth about our relationship so that I cannot use you._

I nodded, realizing the courage it must have taken a girl like Edie to stand up to a stranger like Carlisle. And she didn't even know what he was. That thought made me laugh a little.

"What?" Carlisle asked.

I shook my head, but he persisted. _Please? Tell me what made you laugh. I don't envy you your gift, but now you will always know what has humored me._

"That's true," I said. "I was just thinking that it must have taken unbelievable courage for Edie to stand up to you since you are a stranger to her. And then I realized that she didn't even know how truly dangerous you are."

He smiled. "It's one of the many paradoxes of our lifestyle. You will notice it more when your newborn year is over and you are able to be out in public. People do tend to shy from us, but it is rarely because they sense the danger inherent in what we are. Mostly it is insignificant human concerns that matter little when compared with the danger we truly present to them."

"Have you never met anyone that you could confide in?" I asked.

_We must never confide in them,_ he thought immediately. "I'm sorry. Our kind have very few rules. Most of our kind would say that I impose unnecessary rules upon myself by not indulging in human blood. But the only hard and fast rule that all of our kind hold is that we cannot reveal our secret."

"I guess I can understand that," I said. "Is it ever a problem?"

I couldn't imagine that many people would be inclined to believe such a story.

"Perhaps not here, in the Chicago of 1918, but what about in the early days of this country? Or perhaps England in 1663?" he asked, raising an eyebrow to me.

I nodded, understanding. "So the rules are to protect our kind from -- destruction?"

"No, not really," he said. "There are really very few ways to destroy us. I believe that it is more for the protection of the humans. Were they to find out our way of life, the only way to protect our secrecy would be to destroy those who knew. After all, most of our kind rely on humanity's ignorance for their next meal."

He spoke the words harshly and it was clear that he despised the loss of human life that most of "our" kind indulged in. It was difficult for me to comprehend that I was now a separate entity from humanity at large. I was no longer _human_. What did that make me?

"Did you ever--?" I didn't know how to ask him what I wanted to know. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just trying to understand how you came to this life."

"That's understandable, Edward, and I'm not upset that you asked. Perhaps you will allow me to give you some of my history?"

"I'd like that," I said but all the while fearing what I might hear.

"I was born sometime in the 1640s, I can't be sure exactly when, to an Anglican pastor. He was a righteous and cold man whose only goal in life was to serve God by ridding his parish of evil. He did this by leading hunts for alleged witches, werewolves, and vampires. He got older and less able to travel throughout the parish on these missions and he put me in charge of the hunts. I suspected that my father had been in the business of killing less desirable and misunderstood members of society, not evil doers or monsters. I hated that I was now made to follow in his footsteps. I was careful and fastidious and eventually managed to come across a real coven of vampires living in the city sewers."

_One night I led a mob of villagers with me to the sewer where I knew the coven was hidden,_ he continued in his mind. _The leader, I presume, was weak and ancient. He came out of the sewer calling to the others in Latin. He fell on me in his hunger, attacking weakly. I was somehow strong enough to get away from him, but he killed and injured several of the other villagers before getting away. I hid myself in a cellar under rotting potatoes for the three days it took me to fully transform. I woke up knowing what I was. My father's damning voice rang in my mind and I knew that I was a monster. I tried to kill myself: throwing myself from great heights, attempting to drown myself in the ocean, even starvation. Although I became weak and near crazed with thirst, I could not kill myself. One night, while I was hidden in a cave, a herd of deer passed by where I was hidden. I attacked them without any rational thought. It was only after my strength returned and I realized what I had done that I recognized the implications of my discovery._

"I considered it a second chance, a redemption from the monstrous existence that I felt doomed to when I woke up from the burning. I never looked back. I was careful for the first several years not to get too close to humans, but I found that their blood meant little to me once I realized that I had other options. I swam to France and then ended up in Italy where I found more civilized immortals than the shiftless vampire who had changed me. It was there that I began studying and made the decision to attend medical school. I have found, through my many years, that every time my enhanced abilities are able to somehow save the life of one who might otherwise have perished, I am given a renewed sense of satisfaction and fulfillment in my life."

"You mean--?" I asked, unsure what he was referring to. I remembered that he had told me I was the first he had changed, but . . . What did he mean?

"No, not the way you were saved," he said. "I'm able to suture an injury much faster than a human doctor. There are other things, such as my enhanced sight, hearing, and sense of touch, that help me in diagnoses."

"It must be frustrating when you have to hide those things," I said, picking up on an internal thought.

"Those are the worst days," he said, thinking back on patients he had lost because he had to keep up his "human" façade. "The ones I save hardly make up for the debt of those that I have lost."

"You have, most likely, saved more than most doctors could," I said.

"Perhaps, but not all that I could have," he said. I understood what he meant. He knew that he had the ability to save some of those that he had lost, but he could not because in so doing he would have exposed himself. He felt handcuffed by the very secret that could have saved his patients. It was quite a paradox.

Suddenly, I heard the soft, accented thoughts of Eleazar entering my mind. _Edward,_ he called softly. _I'm on my way back now._

"Eleazar is coming back," I said, smiling.

"You like him," Carlisle said, returning my smile.

I nodded. "He is a likable --"

_It's okay for your to say it, Edward,_ Carlisle thought.

"I know," I said. "But saying it makes it all so real and permanent."

"I don't mean to be flip, but take all the time you need."

I chuckled. "Yes, perhaps one day doesn't seem so monumental in the grand scheme of things, does it?"

* * *

Before Carlisle went back to the hospital, Eleazar and he offered me more suggestions on how to get used to my strange, new body. For someone with a perfect memory but little recollection of my human life, I was having a remarkably difficult time remembering that I was no longer human. I kept expecting my body to react in a normal, human fashion. And, it refused -- repeatedly.

The sun filled the room right at noontime and both of the vampires in the room immediately jumped up to pull the shades. They startled me with their rapid movements and I felt very silly when I looked up from under the dining room table to see both of them laughing at me. I came out from under the table.

"Stop laughing," I said grouchily. "You startled me . . . and . . . "

"Go ahead," Carlisle said softly. "What were you worried about?"

"I thought of a book I had read once. Does the sun burn us?"

They both chuckled at me behind their hands and shook their heads.

"It was foolish of us not to tell you before," Eleazar said. "The sun does not hurt us, but we cannot go out in public when it is sunny."

"Why?"

"Do you think he is ready for this?" Eleazar asked Carlisle cautiously.

Carlisle nodded and began walking over to the curtains. "It is best for us to show you since it is difficult to explain."

Eleazar crouched into a defensive position, ready to spring on me should I overreact. I snorted.

"What would give you the impression that I might overreact, Eleazar?" I asked

He just looked at me, awaiting my reaction. Carlisle pulled back the drapes and I held my hands up instinctively against the glare. Immediately, the room was alight in thousands of pinpricks of light. I looked around, completely dazzled. The light seemed to be reflecting off of some gemstone or prism. And then I saw my hand.

The light touched my hand and it glistened like it was coated in diamonds. I gasped, unable to control my fascination with the display that my skin was putting on. It was inhumanly beautiful.

"This is why we can't be seen in the sunlight?" I whispered.

"Yes," Carlisle said._ Are you in control?_

"Yes," I said. "No. I'm not sure. Why do I look like this?"

"Look at me, Edward," Carlisle said. I looked and saw that his entire face was covered in the tiny diamonds that dotted my hand. I immediately looked into his mind to see myself and realized that my face was the same only shining with inhuman, ruby eyes. I sucked the air into my lungs and began slowly shaking my head back and forth, throwing rainbows around the room as I did so, in an effort to clear my head.

Suddenly, I could see myself in both of their minds, shaking my head back and forth like an animal, blowing air out of my nostrils in an attempt to stay calm. I could see my ruby eyes glinting in the light along with my skin that glinted and sparkled liked diamonds.

"I'm nothing more than a side show freak," I growled. "I'm a monster, covered in gemstones."

Eleazar started advancing on me, prepared to get me under control.

"I'm fine!" I yelled, my voice betraying the emotion.

_I don't believe you,_ he thought.

I breathed deeply and ran my fingers through my hair. The feeling was still slightly disarming but still very familiar.

"It is a shock, that's all. But I'm truly okay now," I said. "Do I have any humanity left?"

Carlisle and Eleazar closed the drapes and turned to me, Eleazar seemingly more at ease with my demeanor now. Without the sparking rainbows dancing around the room, I found that I was better able to focus.

"You have a choice," Eleazar said and Carlisle nodded behind him. "Most of our kind would argue with that statement. Most would tell you that you are a vampire now and your only choice is to feed from the blood of humans. However, we are offering you a choice, Edward. You can be a traditional vampire or you can lead a gentler lifestyle like we have chosen."

"As if that were a choice!" I snorted.

"But it is," Carlisle said. "I have called that life monstrous and barbarous to you, but if it is the life that you would choose, I would not think less of you because of it."

"Yes you would," I said immediately. "You told me your story. You starved yourself in order not to harm humans. And you didn't have anyone there telling you what to do! Of course you would think less of me."

_Look into my mind, Edward,_ he thought. _You can tell that I am not lying to you._

How true that was. And how right he was, his mind held no trace of anger or disappointment in my questions. There was understanding and forgiveness for a choice that I hadn't even made. Eleazar, on the other hand, made no attempt to hide the disdain in his mind at the thought of my choosing the more natural route. I looked at him, my head cocked, about to ask him the reason for the malice in his thoughts when he caught me off guard by speaking to me directly in my mind.

_When Carlisle leaves,_ he thought forcefully. _I will tell you my story when Carlisle leaves._

I turned back to Carlisle who, I realized, was waiting for something from me.

"Is that what you want?" he asked. "Do you wish to follow that lifestyle? I can bring you to other vampires who can school you in that lifestyle and ease your transition. You understand, of course, that I cannot and will not be a part of that."

There was no disappointment in his mind, only sadness and anxiety at losing the boy that he hoped, one day, to call "son."

"No," I said thickly, driving the memory of the alluring scent from my mind. "I don't wish to leave you."

_**A/N: Ok. So I told you that once he reads minds, the chapters would get even longer. ;) A couple notes about this chapter. FF had a mini-fail when I uploaded this and managed to mess up my formatting and leave out a few sentences. I've skimmed through and tried to correct everything, and I will do so more thoroughly after I post, but if you come across anything that looks "off," please send me a PM? I hate having errors in my work. So, what do you think of our stroll down memory lane? I think that they are getting used to the mind reading here as well as getting to know each other some more. I would love to hear what you thought about the chapter. :)**_

**_REMINDER: The Faithful Shipper Awards close their nomination round on Friday. If you haven't done so and wish to nominate Edward's story, the link is on my profile page (please!). :)_**

_**You'll notice that I'm taking a bit longer between chapters now. There's a couple reasons for that. One, there are a lot of details that I want to be sure to catch. Two, I'm now acting as a beta for my beta (say that three times fast). And three, I've started writing my own original story that I'm hoping to have published some day. So, in the interest of maintaining quality, I'm slowing down the chapters just a tad, although I still aim for one a week. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, send a review. Because reviews are like gem-encrusted vampires. :) ~Jen**_


	21. The Immortal

Carlisle stared at me, wanting desperately to believe that I meant what I said and yet still unable to fully let himself hope that I wanted to be with him. I pitied him his loneliness and the desperate remonstrations he was putting himself through as he weighed my words with what he had done to me. I wished, in that moment, that I could show him as easily the truth of my words as he had shown me.

"It will always be your choice," he finally said. "Always."

I nodded, stepping forward.

"And right now, I choose to stay with you and follow your way of life," I said.

He smiled then, a genuine smile of relief. _Thank you, Edward_, he thought. He reached forward and patted me on the shoulder. It was an awkward gesture; I could tell that he wanted to embrace me but he was unsure of how I would take it. He knew that the thoughts of my family were still fresh in my mind and he did not wish to try to step into the role of "father" so soon after my own father died. I could tell that I would look at him one day as my father, but that day was not today. I was glad that he did not ask my permission to call me son; it would have been difficult to say no to him but it would have been wrong to say yes.

The tension in the room disappeared and we sat talking about what we would do over the next several days of Eleazar's visit. Carlisle was adamant that I hunt at least every three days. He felt that it was critical to keep my thirst completely sated because he felt that we were dangerously close to humans, even though our nearest neighbor was over a mile away.

He confided in me that he had brought Eleazar here in order to "baby sit" me during the last of his shifts. When I asked what would happen after Eleazar left, he said simply that he would be with me.

"I was planning to leave the hospital anyway, Edward," he said. "I told you earlier that people were starting to guess that I was not as old as I was pretending to be. It had been my intention to stay with them through the flu epidemic, but they understand now that my situation has changed. They do not hold it against me that I choose to be with you in your time of need."

I saw in his mind that he had informed them of my "delicate health" and my "unstable temper" after my parents' demise. I snorted at his descriptions to his superiors at the hospital.

"Not far from the truth, were you?" I said.

"I've found that it doesn't do to lie more than I have to," he said. "So many things can be explained away without having to fabricate things. It makes our life easier when we don't have elaborate stories to remember."

"As if we would forget," I said.

"That is true," he said. "Still, it is freeing to be able to be yourself as much as possible. The lies are inevitable, but we can make them more bearable."

I nodded, understanding. We continued talking about logistics until it was time for Carlisle to leave for his shift. Both Eleazar and Carlisle were set on taking me to Canada to hunt before Eleazar had to leave and we decided to do it this Sunday when Carlisle was off. Before he left, Carlisle turned to Eleazar, his thoughts a snarl of words that I didn't understand.

"_Pozhaluista, ne govori yemu svoyu istoriyu. YA hochu skazat' yemu sama._"**

I wanted to ask him what he had said, but Eleazar had nodded and he was out the door before I could even utter a sound. I turned to Eleazar, a puzzled look on my face.

"What," I began, "was that?"

"That was Russian," he said. "And he spoke that way because it was for my ears and not yours."

"Clearly," I said sourly. I made a mental note to ask for several language books to fill some of my long days; I disliked being at a disadvantage. "You had a story you wished to tell me."

"Edward, you will have to forgive me," Eleazar began formally, his arms behind his back. "I do not feel as comfortable with you sifting through my memories as Carlisle did."

"I understand," I said carefully. "You do understand that it is not something that I can just turn off, right?"

"I do," he said. He was thinking about things that he wanted to tell me about my gift, the ways that I could learn to control it and harness its power. But he wanted to share his story with me first. "Is it distracting for you to listen to my spoken voice?"

"No," I said. "I can still see the mental pictures that you are thinking of as you speak, but I'm finding it easier to focus on your conscious thoughts and spoken words. I hadn't realized just how much people think about as they speak!"

"You do not have a very clear picture of how humans' minds work," Eleazar said, chuckling. "You've only read the minds of immortals; we have a slightly different make-up than humans."

"Oh," I said, feeling exceptionally slow. Of course immortals were different than humans.

"Please, do not misunderstand me. I do not mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Edward. I know, possibly better than Carlisle, how difficult this is for you. That is why I wanted to wait until he was gone to share my story with you."

"I don't understand," I said. "Were you -- turned -- at the same time as Carlisle?"

"No," he said shaking his head. "And, sadly, I did not come to this life with the conscience that Carlisle did. I fed from humans for centuries before I found this gentler life."

"Centuries?" I asked, shocked. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five," he said promptly.

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

_Perhaps this __**is**__ the best way to show you my story._ I smiled at him, welcoming his trust in me. Carlisle was right; I did like Eleazar very much. I wanted to win his trust and his approval.

"If you have questions, please feel free to ask. I have never tried to tell a story using only my mind before," he said. I nodded to him, eager for him to continue. I found myself completely enamored by this enigmatic vampire.

_Cordoba was a magical city at the beginning of the new millennium, home to the most well-respected minds of the time. My father was one of the most successful merchants in the district. He always had the most impressive selection of offerings in the province and people would come to his bazaar from miles around. He insisted that it was because I had an eye for picking the most talented artisans of the time._

I didn't know how to interrupt him, but I needed to ask him something because surely I had misunderstood. Finally, I just broke in.

"I'm sorry, Eleazar," I said quietly. He smiled immediately, guessing at my question. "You said 'the new millennium'?"

"Yes," he said.

"When were you changed?" I asked.

"May twenty-first, in the second year of Hisham II's restored rule, third ruler of the Umayyad Caliphs of Cordoba, 1011."

I stared at him, open mouthed and unable to answer him intelligently. He was over 1000 years old! If I had been astounded at Carlisle's age, I was nearly speechless at learning when Eleazar's change occurred. It made the term "immortal" seem all the more real and tangible.

_I know that it is a lot to take in on your first day, but I believe that you need to hear this story, Edward. Would you permit me to continue?_

"Of course," I said, able to control the shakiness that I was feeling on the inside. "I'm sorry to have interrupted you."

_My people, the Moors, were the best educated people of my day. We ruled Cordoba for centuries, ushering in an era of tolerance and learning. I was raised in the Islamic tradition as were most of the people that I knew, but there were many religions represented in the area,. The Caliphs worked hard to maintain an air of acceptance and tolerance within the city._

_As I said, my father ran a bazaar at the center of town. Bazaars were a common sight in the city, but none were as successful as ours. My father was not an artisan himself, but he made a comfortable living running the bazaar. Artisans would pay a premium to my father in order to be featured in his weekly bazaar. It was well known in all of the surrounding areas that my father's bazaar had the most talented artisans. His success afforded our family a most comfortable existence in Cordoba. _

_Life could not have been more perfect for me. I was studying philosophy with one of the greatest minds of our time and consulting for my father on weekends. He appreciated my counsel when picking new artisans for his bazaar. Although older than most of other students, my studies were the highlight of my life. I enjoyed the challenges that my teacher gave me and looked forward to the time when I might have students of my own._

_I was soon to be a husband. My parents had entered into an engagement contract with another successful family in Cordoba at the beginning of the year and I was to marry Taresa Auro Servanda at the beginning of the next year. I barely knew her, but her family made a perfect match for my own and she was quite fair. I was pleased with the match and my ability to further my family's fortunes._

_May is a beautiful month in Spain and it was during this time that I began to court Taresa at her family's home. We would sit in her family's courtyard and begin the slow dance of getting to know each other. I was not in love with her, but we had a mutual respect for each other that made the prospect of our upcoming wedding pleasant for both of us. It was on a clear night at the end of May when I was walking back from Taresa's house when my life changed completely._

Eleazar's voice stopped and he filled my mind with pictures. I could tell that these were images that he had seen with his immortal eyes, but they were the same streets that he had walked as a human. He was showing me his native land. I could see the swaying trees and the intricately etched stone work lining the streets. I saw in his mind the walled city that he had once called home.

"I never saw my home again," he said. "On my way home, someone abducted me. I don't remember anything of that night or the journey that I must have made after that."

"How did you remember your family?" I asked, curious how he could remember them when Carlisle could not remember many of his human memories and my own were already so faded.

"They were important to me," he said, shrugging. "If you focus on the things that are important to you just after your change, you will be able to remember some things from _before_. My memories are far from perfect, but I am able to remember enough of the story to be able to tell it to you."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Go on."

"I did not know at the time who it was that had abducted me nor did I know who had changed me, but I remember the moment that the burning began. It was like nothing that I had ever experienced. I woke up in an unfamiliar city surrounded by strange, red-eyed creatures who told me that I was now a vampire."

_I was disoriented and confused, but before they gave me any answers they brought a scared human into the room with me. I was unable to control myself and attacked without a thought. Before, I had been a civilized, thoughtful individual; now, I was a monster. When the human was dead and I realized what I had done, I threw the corpse away from me in disgust, embarrassed by my lack of control and monstrosity._

_I did not understand why I had been brought away from my home and the people that I knew to this strange place to become a monster. That was when the three Volturi came to me. They entered the room with majesty and one of them approached me immediately, reaching out to take my hand. I jumped back, frightened by this strange looking man_.

I saw him in Eleazar's mind and recognized him from Carlisle's thoughts.

"Aro," I said, in response to Eleazar's thought.

"How did you--?" he asked in shock.

"Both you and Carlisle thought of him when you realized that I could read minds," I said in answer. "You both thought of the same face and the same name. That is his name, is it not?"

"Yes," he said. "I am sorry. You took me off guard."

"I have a feeling that will happen often with me," I said humorlessly.

"Aro was a voice of reason in the midst of the insanity. He explained what I had become but he explained that I did not have to be a wraith stalking the streets in search of my prey. He had gestured to the assembled, red-eyed vampires that filled the hall where I was and called them his guard. He said that I was talented, singular even among the elite, and he offered me a place of honor on his guard."

_Edward, I cannot explain the force of his words on my confused mind. I wanted nothing more at the moment than to please him and be a part of what he had built. Aro is a powerful mind reader, although he is different than you are. Aro needs physical contact in order to be able to read a person's thoughts. But once he has that contact, he has access to every thought that a person has ever had. I __**knew**__ what he could do without him having to tell me. In an effort to illustrate his words to me, he asked me what his gift was. I was still confused, but I desperately wanted to please him. I offered him my guess that he could read my thoughts if he touched my hand. He laughed like a pleased child and clapped his hands in pleasure._

"_See, my dear ones," he had said. "See the raw talent of this young one. Would you allow me to view your history, young Eleazar?"_

_I was thrilled that he had said my name and asked my permission; I already thought of him as my master and wanted only to serve him. I did not understand what was making me want to please this man that I knew nothing about, but it was a desire so strong that I could not fight it. I longed to call him Master and my thoughts of my parents and my intended were temporarily forgotten in my desire to please this strange man. I reached out my hand and so began my long career on Volturi guard_.

_After viewing my history, he happily introduced me to some of the vampires that surrounded me. I met Chelsea and her mate, Afton, and of course, Alec and Jane. They all were to become, if not my friends, then at least my compatriots in this new life. I formed alliances on the guard, but few friends._

"But I don't understand," I said. "Who are the Volturi and why do they need a guard?"

"The Volturi are the ruling class for our kind. It is their job to make sure that our kind maintain the shroud of secrecy that has protected us for so many centuries. But they serve other purposes as well. They serve as judge and jury in the case of wrongdoing, they moderate disputes, and they also initiate many into the new life."

"But, why would they need a guard?" I asked again. After witnessing my own strength, I found it unbelievable that a vampire would ever need protection from anything.

"There are those who would overthrow the Volturi," he said darkly. "Those who think they know better than the ancients how to lead the vampire world into modern times."

"Is that why you left?" I asked. "Did you disagree with them?"

He smiled. "I do understand that this must be very disorienting and confusing. First, to discover that you are a vampire and then to discover that a whole secret world exists around you. Please let me tell you in my own way, though?"

"Of course," I said, feeling like an impatient child. "I'm sorry. I just have so many questions. Of course I want to hear your story all the way through. I apologize for my manners."

"Truly, you do not have to apologize to me. I do understand. It's just that if I get ahead of myself, you will miss important details."

He trailed off and continued in his mind.

_I never was fully comfortable with our diet. As I said to you, I worked hard to remember my family and, although their faces were hazy and unclear to me, I saw them in all of the humans that we routinely feasted from. About once every couple of weeks, a hoard of unsuspecting humans would be paraded into the castle for the guard to feed from. I was unusual in my distaste for the diet; most did not think twice about the loss of human life. I kept my thoughts to myself and only fed when absolutely necessary, trying not to look at their faces as I did so._

_Carlisle told you that I could discern the talents of other vampires; I am also able to tell if a human might be talented as a vampire. It was my job to scan the humans as they were brought in and let Aro know if any of them showed promise. Those who I picked out would be changed instead of drained. That was how Aro found Renata, his personal shield. She was in one of the first batches of humans that I scanned; I could tell that she was talented, but found my gaze kept being averted from her even though I wished to look at her. I whispered to my master that I thought she was a shield, and a powerful one at that. He changed her himself and she became his personal body guard._

"He changed her himself?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "Aro would change those who seemed the most promising himself. When he changed her I realized that he must have been the vampire who had changed me. At that point, however, I was so tightly bound to him that I did not think to care."

I thought about the way I felt for Carlisle. Nothing that Eleazar had told me about this Aro had inspired in me the sense of awe that he so clearly felt for him, but I could relate. I did want to please Carlisle, although I didn't feel _bound_ to him the way Eleazar had confessed to feeling for his master. I could see in his eyes the fervor that must have overtaken him when he was inducted into the guard, but I couldn't understand it. Perhaps this Aro was a much more charismatic individual than Eleazar's memories illustrated.

_Once I was able to save Renata from death, I realized how much power I held in the guard. I didn't like playing god over the humans, having to make the decision over who lived and who died. But I considered it an honor to be able to populate the guard with the most talented individuals. Also, I was able to tell Aro when a new vampire who visited the Volturi possessed a rare talent. Aro, of course, would have been able to tell that himself with just one touch, but it was convenient for him to have me whispering in his ear as the vampire entered the room. It saved time._

"What did he do with these talented vampires?" I asked.

"If it was a talent that would be useful on the guard, he would offer the vampire a place in Volterra. Always, it was their choice. It was rare for a vampire to choose otherwise; who would not want to serve on the most elite guard in the world?"

"If it was such an honor, why did you leave? And when? You said _centuries_ before."

"I served on the guard for nearly six and a half centuries before I found my true purpose in life," he said smiling. The picture of a beautiful woman passed through his mind along with the word _Carmen_. "I saw her and my life was never the same again. I knew then that serving the guard was not the best thing I could do with my life -- she was."

"But, I'm sorry, I don't understand. You said yourself that you were helpful to the guard. Why did they let you leave?"

"I told you, it was always a choice. All of those who served Aro did so willingly and voluntarily. It was not easy for me to leave, even though I felt compelled to be with Carmen. Something drew me to Aro and made me wish to stay with him. I think if I had thought that Carmen would stay with me there, I would have stayed. But I knew that she was unhappy in Volterra. I left with Aro's blessings, and Carmen and I found our own way in the world."

"Was Carmen . . . like Carlisle?" I asked.

"No," he said. "She was barely more than a newborn when she came to Volterra. She had been made very close to where I grew up in Spain. She was resentful of the life that had been allotted her and she only fed to maintain her strength. She took no pleasure in hunting humans. We made our way away from Volterra. She sensed the pull that Aro had on me and knew that if we were close, I might choose to go back. We found ourselves in the Aleutian Islands and that is where we met the rest of our coven."

I recoiled at his casual use of the word. To me, it even sounded evil. I had heard of covens before when reading old books. Always it had referred to groups of undead intent on harming others. Eleazar guessed at my reaction.

"It is simply a label that we apply, nothing more. Truly, we consider ourselves more of a family than a coven. However, our kind has referred to groupings larger than one as a coven from time immemorial. It is ingrained in us. There are no sinister contexts nor are there any strange rituals."

I chuckled nervously and ran my fingers through my hair.

"You mean other than hunting coyotes with our bare hands?"

He chuckled with me, continuing to relax around me.

"Even though this is difficult for you, you are taking it remarkably well. I know that you will have difficult days and more outbursts, but you should be proud of the control that you are showing."

I thought back to the way I had thrown the chair or the childish way I had hid under the table. I did not think that I was very controlled; but perhaps, as they had both told me, this was common for "newborns."

"Would you like me to tell you how I found this gentler way of life?"

"Yes," I said, leaning forward. "Please."

"We arrived in the strange, snow covered region and were both homesick for the sun and warmth of Spain. Once I was away from Volterra, Carmen made me remember all of the things that were important to me _before_; it was like being with her was a memory boost. We had nearly decided to leave the cold when we found them."

_The three sisters found us out in the wilderness one day while they were on a hunting trip. We recognized them for what they were from a distance because of their speed and graceful movements, but as they got closer, we noticed something wrong about them_.

He pointed to his eyes and I saw their faces in my mind as he thought about them. They were three of the most beautiful women I had ever seen in my life. Pale skin that reflected in the glittering sun from the snow that surrounded them and shot diamonds around the clearing. The one he called Tanya had strawberry curls that ringed her face and I saw their golden eyes in his memory. His internal voice took over and I heard their voices in his memory:

_We both crouched to the ground defensively against these strange-eyed females who faced us, but they remained erect and regarded us calmly. I could tell that the darker haired female had a powerful offensive gift which made me even more fearful of them. Tanya was clearly the leader and she stepped forward. I moved in front of Carmen defensively, but she put her hands up in a gesture of peace._

"_We wish you no harm," she said. "We are on a hunting trip and came across your scent. We were curious. Can we help you in any way?"_

_She took me off guard. A coven of her size should have been intent on our destruction._

"_You are curious as well, are you not?" she asked me, pointing to her eyes. I nodded, unable to hide my fascination with the strange color of their eyes. "Please, we will not hurt you or your mate. Come back with us to our home and we will tell you our story."_

_We followed them, curious about their "home." It was unusual for our kind to maintain any type of residence. The Volturi had only been able to do it because they were careful to send their scouts out of their walled city to hunt. We arrived at a beautifully made log structure that looked to be at least a hundred years old._

I saw in his mind the stories that the beautiful women had told and about the human men they had loved. I was immediately embarrassed and strangely intrigued by the thought of these female vampires who came in the night to visit human men and have their way with them.

_They had disliked having to kill so many of the men that they loved. They looked for other ways to sate their thirst and discovered that they could survive on the blood of animals. Both Carmen and I were fascinated with the idea that we could survive without having to kill humans. We asked them to show us how they hunted. They smiled and took us out for a hunt._

"Edward," he said, shaking his head. "The hunting there put this small wildlife preserve to shame. On my first hunt, I took down a polar bear and Carmen took two artic foxes. It was both exhilarating and freeing for us. We came to realize that we could have our immortality and not steal the lives of humans. For the first time in almost seven centuries I was truly at peace with what I was."

It made perfect sense then to me why he reacted so violently when Carlisle offered me a choice. For him who had not been given a real choice, it was unbelievable to think that someone who was offered the option of not killing humans might _choose_ to become a killer.

"I understand," I said. "I don't want to be a killer. Truly, I don't. I just can't imagine how to resist that smell."

"I wish that I could tell you that it becomes easier," he said. "Even knowing the self-loathing that I felt every time that I fed from a human, the smell is still intoxicating. It takes discipline and time to be able to resist. But I believe that the animal blood makes us more determined and rational. It is never easy, but I have never slipped since I chose this life."

"That is a comfort," I said. "May I ask you some questions?"

He nodded his reply. _Please do not hold back. I feel more comfortable with you now and I apologize for not trusting you earlier._

I smiled at him. "Thank you for that. I appreciate your candor and I understand your hesitance. I was just wondering, since I saw pictures of your home town in your vampire memory, if you knew what became of your family?"

"I did not return to Cordoba for over a century," he said. "Aro convinced me that it was too dangerous, that someone might recognize me. But he was kind and sent two of his own scouts to my father's bazaar about three years after I had been changed to discover what had become of my family and loved ones. They posed as foreign dignitaries and did not seem out of place in the bazaar. They were able to talk to my father and found that he and my mother were well and that my betrothed had made another match and been married. I never found out how they were able to get the information, but they shared details that were unique to my family so I was certain that they had been there."

"Are there many . . . like us?" I asked.

"You are wondering if Carlisle is the first of our kind you had run into?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling slightly foolish for my question, and yet still intensely curious.

"There are more of us than you would expect, but I doubt that you had come across another of our kind. Even though your mortal mind did not guess what Carlisle was, I'm sure you recognized that he was different."

I thought about that, trying to remember my first impression of Carlisle. I thought about Carlisle's memory of seeing me at the park. I vaguely remembered being drawn to him, but I don't remember thinking anything strange about him. And in all of our meetings, I didn't recall being suspicious or mistrustful of him.

"There is something within humans that tells them to be wary of us," he continued. "Our natural predatory nature inspires fear in our prey, but often they ignore it. _Our_ kind, that practice a gentler lifestyle, can get closer to humans and even interact with them the way that Carlisle does. But often, humans still recognize something different about us. We, of course, have many lures to bring our prey to us, and it is those lures to which humans often fall victim."

I thought of myself. Was I not more beautiful in this body than I had ever been in my human form? My body was more sculpted, my voice was more soothing and melodious, even my scent was more appealing. Of course, it was a horrifically dangerous beauty, as my eyes clearly intimated, but it was beauty nonetheless.

"Was Carlisle part of your . . . coven?" I asked, curious about Carlisle's past.

"Ah," Eleazar said and immediately I realized that his thoughts began to come in Spanish. "I think that it would be better if Carlisle told you his story himself. I know that he wants to."

And so Eleazar and I sat for the rest of the evening and into the night talking. We were in the same positions when I began to hear Carlisle's thoughts reach me. It was a fascinating night of discovery for me, but I heard something in Carlisle's distracted thoughts as he approached the house that made everything else seem unimportant. Carlisle had seen Anna at the hospital.

_**A/N: **The translation of the Russian phrase that Carlisle spoke to Eleazar is "Please do not tell him my story. I want to tell him myself." Or at least that is what Google Translate says the Russian translation is.**_

_**Anyway, this chapter was painful on many levels for me. You've all heard me talk about how my characters have minds of their own and talk to me from time to time. Well, Edward and Eleazar threw a curve ball at me with the revelation that I'd be telling Eleazar's story this chapter. And getting him to talk after he insisted that I tell his story was like pulling teeth. Have you ever tried to pull a vampire's teeth? Seriously. Not the easiest trick in the book. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. It was exhaustively researched by the fabulous Peanut1981. **_

_**Oh, and I have a rec for all of you canon nuts out there. I am beta-ing for a wonderful story, entitled "Accouterments of a Vampire" by BMSequestrian. It is Jasper's story, starting from about one month before his change. It's really good, you should check it out!**_

_**If you enjoyed the chapter, leave a review because reviews are like visiting Edward in the night. ;) ~Jen**_


	22. Complications and Distractions

Carlisle hadn't even made it to the front door when I leapt up out of my seat and raced to find him.

"Edward!" Eleazar called out. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"It's Carlisle," I said dismissively. "He's home and he has news."

He followed after me, unsure of what had stopped our conversation so abruptly and curious about what news Carlisle would be bringing. In Carlisle's mind, I could see Anna as she looked around a hospital room. She looked confused.

I raced down the stairs and reached Carlisle as he closed the door.

"What's wrong with her?" I demanded. "Why was she at the hospital?"

"Who?" Eleazar asked. "Who was at the hospital? I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said. "I'm sure that this has to be very confusing for you."

"Stop coddling me and tell me why she was in the hospital!" I roared, charging at him. Eleazar came up behind me, pulling me back. I heard his quiet voice in my head.

_You need to calm yourself, Edward. Please. He will not be able to tell you what you need to know if you attack him._

I was panting and growling, and for once, I didn't care that I sounded like an animal. My memories may be indistinct, but I remembered enough about Anna to know that she was my best friend; I wanted to know if she was dying. I wouldn't allow that. Somehow, I'd convince Carlisle to save her too.

"She's not sick, Edward," Carlisle said gently, guessing my greatest fear. "I promise you that she is healthy and well. Look."

He showed me her face again and I could see the flush of color in her cheeks that belied her embarrassment and her anger, but she didn't look sick or feverish. She was gesturing forcefully at Carlisle and I heard her say that she "demanded" to see me. I put my hands up to my eyes.

"Of course," I said, sinking into a nearby chair. "She's concerned because I disappeared from the hospital. Tell me everything," I said, looking up at him.

"Edward's friend came to the hospital today," he said, looking at Eleazar. Immediately, Eleazar began thinking of ways to control the damage, ready to whisk Carlisle and me away to his home so that there would be no trouble.

"We're not leaving," I growled at him.

"You need to consider the possibility, Edward," he said sternly. "This is for her protection as well as yours. What if she comes looking for you here?"

"She's not going to come here, Eleazar," Carlisle said. "Please. Let me finish."

"Go on," Eleazar said, still unconvinced.

"Anna came to the hospital this evening just as I was starting my shift. She had spoken with Edie and knew that you had survived the flu. She has quite a spirit," he said, raising his eyebrows. _Is there anything you need to tell me about your relationship with this girl?_

"No," I said, sighing. "We were not romantically involved, if that is what you are wondering."

"Actually," Carlisle said, "that isn't what I was wondering. I already knew that you did not have an intended . . . I never would have changed you if I thought you had any loose ends such as that. I was just curious how close you and she were."

"She was -- is my best friend," I said. "Why do you ask?"

"You never mentioned her to me when you were human," he said. "I remember her from the garden party, but you didn't talk to me about her. I was wondering if either you or she held . . . feelings for the other?"

"Oh," I said. "Was she very angry?"

"Yes," he said shaking his head. "I'm afraid that she was. May I show you?"

I nodded, stiffening myself in preparation for what I was about to see. I was fearful of what words had been exchanged between the two of them; I knew that Anna, like my mother, was a force to be reckoned with.

_I saw her approach the reception desk just after I had arrived,_ Carlisle thought. In his mind, I saw her. She was dressed all in black and she looked as though she had been recently crying. I drew in a shocked breath. _I'm so sorry, Edward_.

"She was . . ." I said, looking up at him. "Mother's funeral?"

He nodded. _I didn't want to tell you, knowing how it would hurt you and knowing that you could never attend_.

"I understand," I said, reading his disbelief in his thoughts. He had been expecting an outburst, bracing himself for it, actually. "No, Carlisle, I really do understand. People that I love would have been there. They would have seen the changes in me and . . . I know that I wouldn't have been able to control myself."

I hung my head, ashamed at myself. _I'm proud of you_, Carlisle said quietly in my head. _It takes a lot of courage to admit your own weakness, Edward. Would you like me to continue?_

"Please," I said.

_I could hear her clearly from where I was watching her_, Carlisle thought.

"_Hello," she said. "I'd like to visit Edward Masen, please?"_

_The receptionist looked up at her, confused, and then looked back down at her ledger. She flipped through several pages before she looked back up at Anna._

"_When did you say the patient had been admitted?" the receptionist asked._

"_I didn't," she said frowning. "But he was admitted on the morning of October 16__th__, four days ago now. He came in with his mother."_

"_I don't have any patients here by that name, miss," the girl said. "Oh! Here it is. Edward Masen was discharged later the same night that he was admitted. He was discharged into the care of his uncle, Dr. Cullen."_

"I could tell by the stiffening of her shoulders that she was shocked and angry," Carlisle said. "She immediately asked if I was there because she needed to speak to me. I stepped out from where I had been watching her and the receptionist pointed me out."

_She spun around and marched right over to me_, he continued. _It is rare for humans to approach me with such purpose, but she was exceptionally determined._

"_Dr. Cullen," she said. "You probably don't remember me . . ."_

"_No, you are Anna, correct? Edward's . . . friend?"_

"_Yes," she said. "Forgive me, but where is he? They just told me that he was discharged three days ago, but I don't understand. His mother's funeral was today . . ."_

"She's angry with me," I said, hearing in her tone the anger and accusation.

"She doesn't understand," Carlisle said.

"How could she?" I exclaimed. "Yes, I can see it now, Carlisle. 'Sorry, Anna, but your best friend is a newborn vampire right now. That's why he wasn't at his mother's funeral. You understand, right dear?' Carlisle, she must despise me for missing Mother's funeral. And I can't blame her at all."

"I made her understand, Edward," he said. "I could tell that she was a good friend. You obviously can't have the same type of relationship as you had before, but I would never wish to let a wedge develop in one of your friendships. It is yours to decide how to handle your human relationships."

Eleazar was shocked at Carlisle's words. He was thinking back to his own newborn period and how he had begged to go back to his home to see his family, to let them know that he was safe and well. He had pleaded with Aro, after he was able to control his thirst enough, to be permitted just to see them again. Aro wouldn't allow it; he insisted it was too dangerous. And even after all of these years, I could still hear the hero-worship in his mind as he thought of his former master. He couldn't believe that Carlisle was putting humans at such risk by leaving this decision up to me.

"I have no idea how to handle my human relationships," I admitted, knowing that I could not see them right now, but wanting badly to have some contact with both Anna and Edie.

"Well, you will have time to determine if you wish to continue those relationships or let them fade away," he said.

"I still don't understand how you made her relent," I said. "She didn't sound like she was in a very understanding mood."

He chuckled. _No, she was fairly difficult to convince._ Carlisle continued with the story in his mind.

"_Won't you come with me to my office, Miss Scott?_" he asked. He turned around quickly and she followed after him. Once inside the office, he gestured to a seat and he perched on the edge of his desk just opposite her. I was a little shocked at how close he was to her.

"_Have you spoken with Edward's cousin?" _he asked her.

Anna nodded, the color rising in her cheeks slightly. She seemed confused for a moment as she looked at him and then she shook her head slightly, seeming to remember why she was there.

"_Yes, Edie told me that you would be taking responsibility for Edward when he was discharged from the hospital -- which, of course, is very generous of you -- but if he was discharged from the hospital three days ago, why was he not at Mrs. Masen's funeral? And why hasn't he returned to school?_"

"School!" I exclaimed. I had forgotten all about school.

"It's taken care of, Edward," Carlisle said. "I've withdrawn you from school, explaining that you would be coming with me when I move and that we would make arrangements for your schooling when we arrive."

I nodded, numbly. I was surprised at how disappointed I was that I would not be graduating with my class.

_I explained to her that, although you were discharged and on the mend, you were not well enough to be up and around_, he told me in his mind. _She seemed to understand and accept that quite quickly. Do you remember if anyone in her family was ill with the disease?_

"Her mother," I said, remembering vaguely. "She got sick and my mother helped to take care of her. But she got better after about two weeks."

"That makes sense, then," he said, thinking back on her words. Anna mentioned that she was shocked that I had improved enough to be released within a day of being admitted; when he explained that I was still sick, she seemed to relax and trust him more. It was pretty clear to me from her demeanor that she thought Dr. Cullen was hiding something, but she couldn't decide what.

_She asked several questions about your condition_, he told me. _She seemed to be quizzing me_. I snorted, trying to imagine that. _She seemed very protective of you_, he thought.

"Is that so surprising?" I asked. "You've just told her that I'm still sick, but you have me holed away at your home while you are at work. For all she knows, I'm here alone and still sick."

_I wasn't criticizing, Edward_, he thought immediately. _I was merely observing_.

"Continue," I said. "I want to know how you convinced her not to barge in here."

_She was very adamant that both she and Edie be allowed to visit with you_, he thought, smiling slightly. _She tried to convince me that it would be better for your health if you knew that your friends and family still cared about you_.

"_Dr. Cullen," _she was saying in his memory. Her jaw was set in a hard line_. "I assure you that I am not concerned about the flu. I've been around many people who were ill and I have been fine. I want to see Edward!"_

"Is she serious?" I asked, leaping out of my chair. "She's not concerned about the flu? Did she not just get back from my mother's _funeral?_"

"Relax, Edward," Carlisle said. "I made sure to caution her that being exposed to the flu previously was no guarantee that she was safe. It did not, however, dissuade her from wanting to see you."

"_I still don't understand why you won't let me see my friend," _Anna said, frowning_. "Do you know how worried Edie is about him? He is the last of her family."_

"_I understand the position Miss Boyer is in," _Carlisle said, leaning in closer to her. I watched as Anna's eyes dilated and her mouth opened slightly. _"But I want to __**assure**__ you that it is much safer for __**everyone**__ if you let me care for Edward right now. Do you understand, Anna?_"

I could sense that he was close enough for her to be able to feel his breath on her face. It raised a feeling in my chest that I was unfamiliar with. Without really understanding why, I was suddenly very angry with Carlisle. I registered the fact that Eleazar was moving closer to me as I began to growl softly while watching the rest of the encounter.

Anna was fanning herself and looking up at Carlisle with her lips parted and her breath coming faster. She licked her lips and blinked her eyes a few times before looking around her, as if trying to remember what she wanted to say.

"_Well," _she stammered_. "Can we -- I mean, if it isn't too taxing on him -- couldn't we possibly write to him? Or call him even?"_

Carlisle did something that made Anna's eyes get slightly unfocused again and then he reached out and touched her shoulder gently. I noticed that she shivered and closed her eyes slightly at his touch. If I didn't know better, I would say that Anna was enamored with Carlisle. But . . . did I know better? My growl became slightly louder.

"_I think that would be acceptable," _Carlisle said in a low, soft voice. _"I will ask Edward to write you as soon as he is ready."_

"_Thank you, Dr. Cullen," _Anna said, looking up at him expectantly. _"You don't know how much this means to me."_

She rose and I noticed that she walked much closer to Carlisle than she had before. She turned around as she was saying goodbye and it was clear that she was reluctant to leave him. Seeing that was all I needed to lose my tenuous grasp on my control.

"Why did you do that?" I stormed. "She can't -- you can't -- it's entirely too dangerous for her to feel that way about you!"

I ran my fingers through my hair and paced back and forth to give me something to do other than charging at Carlisle.

"I don't understand, Edward," he said. "You said that you and she were not romantically involved."

"We're not!" I said, turning on him. "But you are not exactly an ideal match for her. How could you raise her expectations like that? You -- played on her attraction to you!"

"Of course I did," he said. "It is one of our lures."

"Our _lures_?" I asked, my voice coming in a gravelly tone. "You _lured_ my best friend? Did you suddenly have a change of heart?"

"Edward, please," Carlisle said with his hands up. "I would never consider--"

_How could you even think that of me?_ I could tell by the tone of his thoughts that he was hurt by my accusations. Had I been more rational, I might have been embarrassed by my accusations, but I was far from rational.

"You said it yourself," I roared. "It's one of our _lures_. What does that mean?"

"He simply means that it is one of the tricks that we use to achieve our goals with humans," Eleazar said, stepping forward and in between Carlisle and me. "Most vampires use those lures to attract their prey. _Our_ kind use the lures to make sure that our secret stays hidden without having to either hurt the humans we interact with or leave abruptly from a place to which we've grown accustomed."

_Really, Edward_, Eleazar continued in my head. _You are being unreasonable and you have hurt Carlisle_.

I looked over at him and I could see that it was true. Unfortunately, I was feeling rather glad that I had hurt him. I was still somewhat irrationally angry with him. At this point, I realized that I was being irrational. I still felt . . . threatened.

"Please," Carlisle said. "Let me explain. I had no intention of harming your friend. Nor did I intend to attract her to me romantically. As I said to you earlier, she was extremely determined in her insistence that she be allowed to visit. I _had _to impress upon her the danger. The only way that I could do that was to . . . distract her."

"You certainly accomplished that," I muttered, turning and sitting down again. I sighed. I realized what I was feeling now. I was jealous. I was jealous of Carlisle for being able to interact with Anna without wanting to kill her. I was jealous that he could laugh with her, talk to her, see her, when I knew that I might never do those things again. I was jealous that nothing had changed for him and yet _everything_ had changed for me.

_You need to be honest with me, Edward_, Carlisle continued in my mind. _Would you prefer if Eleazar left? I need you to tell me why this upset you so much_.

I shook my head at the suggestion that Eleazar should leave. I offered him no privacy; why should I ask him to leave so that I might have privacy?

"It just seems very unfair," I said, pinching the bridge of nose and trying to form words that did not make me sound like a whiny child. "You get to sit within inches of my friend and I have no hope of being able to do that. She's right, you know? It would help me inordinately to be able to talk to her or Edie right now. But I can't just meet them at Freedman's General for a scoop of ice cream now; I might kill them."

_I'm sorry_, Carlisle said within my head. _It seems I have misunderstood your emotions again_.

"That isn't surprising, since I can't seem to pin them down for more than a few minutes myself," I said.

For some reason, the easy intimacy that Carlisle had shared with her and the knowledge that I could never think of sharing that with her had hit me harder than any other revelation that Carlisle had made since I had awoken. I was able to resign myself to nearly ever other aspect of this life and actually find things that I liked in each of them. I had enjoyed hunting despite the fact that I found it slightly barbaric and messy; I thought I would get better at it in time. I loved running and couldn't wait to do that again. I could think of many reasons that not sleeping ever again might be an advantage, not the least of which would be time to learn new things. And there were the obvious physical benefits of the transformation. But this knowledge that I might, at any unguarded moment, lash out and kill someone I loved frightened me to the core. If I was capable of that, what separated me from the nightmarish monsters that I thought of just after the change?

"I'm sorry that I . . ." I began. "I'm sorry that I accused you. I know that you would never hurt her; I'm just -- slightly jealous of your control right now."

"Ah," he said. "I understand and I am sorry that I didn't see that before. It must be very frustrating for you to know that I can be close to people you care for and you cannot."

"But why _that?_" I asked quickly, the words tumbling from my mouth. "Why did you have to peak her interest so? And _how?_ How did you get her to respond to you like that? I've never seen anything like it! Anna isn't a flighty girl and yet she was reduced to little more than nods and small smiles. What did you do to 'distract' her?"

He chuckled. _So I didn't entirely misread your emotions. I am sorry Edward. I understand that the mood swings are very difficult for you._

"One of many things that are difficult," I said through my teeth. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Of course," he said. "Although, it is not a science. You see, we are very attractive to our would-be prey. That is the lure that I spoke of. In most of my dealings with humans I remain distant, aloof even. But, if I choose to be . . . charming, I can be almost completely assured of their compliance."

"That must be useful," I said chuckling. Listening to him talk clinically about charming a human was easy for me. Thinking about him using that charm on Anna was quite a different feeling indeed.

"I would never abuse that power," he said seriously.

"Then what you did with Anna . . ." I growled softly.

_Was for you,_ he said simply in my mind. "I meant only that I would not use that power to achieve a selfish aim. Nor would I use it to endanger a human. Can you understand?"

I sighed and nodded. Of course I could understand. That did not mean that I liked or appreciated it in the least.

"How long before I am able to control myself?" I asked, determined to fight this necessary incarceration with as much of my considerable strength as I could. Perhaps if I was strong enough I could control my thirst enough to see my friends and family sooner.

"A year at the very least," Carlisle said. "More likely two."

"Is there any way to desensitize myself?" I asked, already thinking about ways that I could slowly ease myself into smelling the blood.

"Time," he and Eleazar said at the same time.

"Time is the only way to assure that you are ready," Carlisle said. "And I would not conscience letting your friend or your cousin be your first encounter."

He shuddered, thinking of the possibilities. I saw in his mind the scenarios that he was considering and I felt myself getting angry again.

"I don't understand," I said slowly in order to keep my temper under control. "How were you able to control your urges so easily?"

"It was far from easy," he said surprised. "I apologize if I gave you the impression that it was easy for me. It was pure torture for me any time I came in contact with a human in those first years. I did my best to limit my contact with humans as much as possible during my first several years. After that, I tested myself carefully, allowing myself to get closer to the human population until I felt sure that I posed no threat to the humans. It was nearly a century before I felt comfortable enough to go to any classes or pursue my dreams of becoming a doctor."

We spent the rest of the day alternating between talking over the past and trying to plan for the future. Eleazar and Carlisle had two very different ideas about how my future with Anna and Edie ought to be handled. Eleazar made no secret of the fact that he did not want me in contact with people who knew me before. He considered it an incredible risk, one that might not only expose humans to danger, but also potentially expose our secret.

I understood his fear; I had found a mirror not long after my argument with Carlisle and vainly studied my features for nearly three-quarters of an hour. There were traces of the face that I knew as my own in this new face: contours that were reminiscent, shapes that I recognized. And there were, of course, the features which were completely different: the pale, cold skin and the blood red eyes. What would the people who loved me _before_ think of me now? Was it, perhaps, safer for them if I just disappeared?

But did I believe that it would ever be that simple? Anna might have been "distracted" enough to leave Dr. Cullen's office this afternoon with the promise of a letter sometime soon, but would that distraction last if I never made contact? Would she ever let it rest if one day Dr. Cullen disappeared from Chicago and I was nothing but an unanswered question from her past?

And what about Edie? After all she had endured, could I just ignore what Anna had intimated when speaking with Carlisle? I was Edie's last surviving family member. If I disappeared into the night without a word to her, she would be completely abandoned. While I might be able to conscience protecting them from my bloodlust, I could not conscience leaving without any word to them. They deserved better for the friendship and love they had given me before. I would give them that at least.

Despite an immortal clarity to my thoughts that allowed me to ponder multiple problems at a time while still reading and absorbing a complicated language book, I was at a loss for what to write to Anna or Edie. I pondered the problem for nearly two full days before I finally got my inspiration. Not surprisingly, it was on one of the nightly runs that Eleazar and I went on while Carlisle was working at the hospital. We weren't hunting, but if we came across a deer we took it. Carlisle and Eleazar were planning our great hunting trip for Wednesday evening when Carlisle was off. Tuesday night, we were just running. It was freeing and amazingly exhilarating. I did some of my best thinking on those runs. Eleazar was, of course, overly cautious of the places were we ran, but we never encountered any trouble.

We arrived back at the house and I sprinted up to the small room where Carlisle had allowed me to set up a desk, much to Eleazar's surprise. Although the room looked nothing like my mother's sitting room at home, it reminded me of her because of the largest piece of furniture in the room: a broken-down and neglected piano. When I found the room and the piano, I had broken down for a moment, overwhelmed with a sudden and vivid memory of my mother attempting to teach me how to play. After I settled down, Carlisle had offered to take the piano out of the house. I had whipped around at him in a rage.

"No!" I had said quickly. "Please don't, I mean. I rather -- I like it."

He smiled. _Would you like me to have it repaired?_

I rewarded him with an enormous smile. It was, in fact, _exactly_ what I wanted. I was beginning to have better control over my body now that I had had a few days to adjust and I realized that I might just have better luck with the piano now than I had ever had as a human. Carlisle had arranged for a piano tuner and repairman to come over Wednesday morning; Eleazar and I would be out of the house for most of that day.

It was to my "piano room" that I came to finally write the letters I had been neglecting for nearly two days. Eleazar followed after me and arrived at the doorframe just as I was rummaging through the drawers.

"I thought we were going to practice your Spanish this evening?" he questioned me. I knew that he was looking forward to my lesson. I proved to be a much faster learner now that I possessed a perfect memory.

I smiled at him. "The lesson will have to wait a bit," I said. "I have some letters to write."

"Oh," he said, turning away, but his thoughts came to me as he walked away. _This can only lead to both heartache and possible disaster, Edward. Please, think about what you are doing_.

He had made his opinion on this matter known on many occasions. But, right now, I thought that I knew just the way to handle both letters. I set out to write Edie's first, knowing that writing to Anna would be infinitely more difficult.

_22 October 1918_

_Dear Edie,_

_I hope that the reading of this letter finds you well and in good health. Circumstances as they are, I can only hope that your current living arrangements have brought you happiness. I am on the mend, thanks to the care and attention of my benefactor, Dr. Cullen. I feel blessed that he has agreed to bring me into his home and foster me here._

_I regret that our time together has been cut short, cousin. Your friendship was something that I had begun to count on during our difficult last days prior to my sickness. I am so grateful to have had the chance to become closer to you during the past months. Although our relationship will, necessarily, be distant in the coming years as I travel with Dr. Cullen, I hope that you will agree to keep in contact with me through letters. We will be leaving the city in a short while and I am still unable to entertain visitors, but Dr. Cullen assures me that we will return to the city in a couple of years so that we may have a reunion then._

_Please know that I wish you the best in your life with the Kellys. You must promise me to be strong. Know that if there were any way for us to meet before I leave, I would arrange it. But your health is more important than my selfish desire to bid you farewell. Please understand and do not think ill of me. I will send along my contact information as soon as we arrive in our new home._

_Your cousin, _

_Edward_

I folded the paper and inserted it into the envelope, pleased that I had been able to tackle that letter without great difficulty. Now, on to the more difficult letter. I knew that while Edie may be convinced by my promise to visit several years in the future, Anna would likely hear of no such thing. She'd come storming here, letter in hand, to drag me out of the house herself if she thought Carlisle was whisking me away and forbidding me to visit with people before we left. I realized that the brief reprieve Carlisle had granted me when he "distracted" Anna would only last as long as it took her to read this letter and absorb the fact that she wouldn't see me again for at least a full year. I needed to word this letter appropriately.

It took me the rest of the night and nearly four sheets of paper before I finally came up with my final draft. This is the letter I sealed away and handed to Carlisle before Eleazar whisked me away from the house for the day:

_22 October 1918_

_My dear friend,_

_I regret so many things about the time before my parents died. I regret that I was not able to tell my father goodbye. I regret that I was not able to thank Mother for everything that she did, even up until her dying breath, for me. I do not wish to have another regret, Anna._

_I know that this will be difficult for you to understand. But Anna, I am going to need you to trust me. We cannot meet right now. Before you go storming out of your house, will you please relax and listen to me? While Carlisle was treating my flu, another condition developed that needs treatment. It is completely curable, however it is not something that is easily treated. It is also something that requires isolation for at least one year, possibly more. I know that this is going to be difficult for you to hear, but I promise that I will keep in close contact with both you and Edie._

_I know that you are familiar with the heartache that my cousin has suffered with the loss of her mother and my family all within the span of a month. I'm sure that you can understand why I did not choose to share these details with her. I felt that it might be too much for her to bear; I simply told her that we were leaving earlier than we actually are, but that we would be back in a year or two. Please help me to keep this from her? I do not wish her to worry over me. I do not wish you to worry over me either, but I know that you are strong enough to bear this news._

_Anna, it pains me to know that this is causing you pain. Carlisle told me that you came to hospital looking for me after Mother's funeral and I am sorry that I could not explain this situation to you in person. It is, of course, your choice, whether you choose to keep up our correspondence. I wish you well and hope to hear from you soon. You once told me that no matter what became of me, you would remain my best friend. I can only hope that that is still the case._

_Your friend,_

_Edward_

I finished the letter and folded it, but left it out of its envelope. I scribbled a hasty note to Carlisle, asking him to look at it, seeing if it met his approval. I told him that I looked forward to meeting him for our trip and signed a large E. I looked up just as Eleazar began chastising me in my mind to hurry before the humans came. I smiled at him and waggled my eyebrows.

"I'm done," I said. "What are we waiting for?"

He rolled his eyes at me and we took off at top speed for the small meadow where we would wait for Carlisle.

* * *

"No, no, no!" Eleazar called to me from his perch in a tree. "You are just going to break branches if you keep doing it like that!"

I growled in mock frustration as I threw another bunch of fern branches to the ground. Eleazar was teaching me the art of silently climbing trees. Climbing, I was good at. It was the silent part which eluded me. I also only seemed able to climb about half as high as Eleazar. I got excited and broke too many branches when I got higher up. Eleazar said that it would come in time and that knowing how to use the trees would be helpful when hunting the larger predators.

He had been sharing stories of different animals that he had hunted in his years and convinced me that predators were not only the best tasting prey, but also the most fun to play with. We had caught two more deer on our nightly runs before this larger trip and each time I was struck by how _easy_ the whole process was. I wanted a challenge, something that excited me as much as hunting the coyote had. Eleazar entertained me as I attempted to learn how to climb with stories of the different predators that I could hope to hunt on our trip. So far, I was most looking forward to the promise of a stray polar bear.

Carlisle and Eleazar planned to take me to a small Canadian island located in Lake Huron, called Manitoulin Island. They had not shared with me the details of how we would get there, but they had been teasing me with tiny details about what we would find there for the past three days. We were supposedly going to an extremely secluded wildlife preserve just inland from the coast. They assured me that there would be no chance of finding humans on our trip and I was beginning to get very excited about this journey. We were nearing the time when Eleazar would leave and I had begun to look forward to his company. I knew that we would be visiting with his family sometime later this year, but I also knew that this time was special.

I had finally reached the uppermost branches of one of the tallest trees in the clearing when I began to hear Carlisle's thoughts approaching us.

"I can hear Carlisle," I said to Eleazar.

"I want you to look for him now," Eleazar said, switching to his inner voice. _Use his thoughts to show you where to look._

He tried to remain as silent as possible as I tried to concentrate on Carlisle's thoughts. I was surprised that, when I focused on his now familiar thoughts, I was able to tune out Eleazar's closer thoughts. I cried out in shock and lost my concentration, but I was able to find it again quickly. Carlisle was coming toward us from the south. I turned myself toward where I heard him, and was surprised to be able to discern small movements in the surrounding forest about a mile and a half away.

"I can see him!" I said, shocked. "He's coming from the south and he's about a mile and a half away."

"Now try to smell him as he approaches," Eleazar said.

I inhaled deeply and was surprised when I found Carlisle's faint scent drifting toward me through the air.

"Can you smell him?" Eleazar asked quietly.

"Yes," I said. "He is getting closer."

He was about a half mile away when I noticed that he slowed down.

"Call to him," Eleazar commanded. "I want you to see how our senses work, Edward."

"But he's too far away," I said.

"Call to him," he said again.

"Carlisle," I called loudly, not expecting any response.

"Hello, Edward," Carlisle called back immediately. "I see you've been climbing trees."

I scrambled down the tree, jumping the last twenty feet. It was a fantastic feeling, especially as I felt my feet lightly touch the ground and noticed that there was barely any sound to accompany it. Carlisle arrived in the clearing just as I touched the ground, a huge smile plastered on my face.

"Are you enjoying your lessons?" he asked as he approached me, pulling some stray leaves out of my disheveled hair.

"Of course!" I said. "Did you see that jump?"

He smiled. _It's good to see you so happy. Writing is good for your soul, is it not?_

I smiled back at him. "Indeed. What did you think?"

"I think it is appropriate," he said, nodding. "What gave you the idea?"

"It was something you said before," I said. "You said that it was best not to lie unless you have to. I know Anna; I know that she isn't going to believe that I don't want to see her anymore. I also know that if I tell her I can't see her for a year without any real reason, she would never accept that. I think that she will understand if it is about my health, especially if I offer to maintain contact with her."

_Do you think she will write to you? _he thought.

"I do," I said, with more confidence than I felt.

"Either way, you've made good on your promise to remain her friend and keep her safe. You've done well."

I knew that Eleazar was planning to begin another argument with Carlisle. Instead of letting him get started, I clapped Carlisle on the shoulder.

"Do we have time to run before we set off on the hunt?" I asked.

"We can run on the way to the water," Carlisle said mysteriously.

Both he and Eleazar chuckled and then gestured for me to follow. We began running through the forest and I was left wondering what we would be doing once we arrived at the large body of water I could see in their minds.

**_A/N: So, this chapter turned out a bit differently than I had imagined it. I expected the scene with Anna and Carlisle to be really quick and then to have the Canadian hunt within this chapter. Apparently, Edward was seriously PO'd about Carlisle's interaction with Anna so it took a bit longer than I expected it. I think that this chapter is very important, however. I think that it shows more of Edward's newborn emotions and his inability to understand some of them. Also, he's starting to realize more about what his new life is going to mean for him and his relationships. Perhaps this chapter will raise some questions in your mind about what is going to become of Edie and Anna . . . those questions will be answered soon enough. ;) Next chapter is going to be pure fun: swimming, hunting and male bonding galore! Happy first day of Spring, my lovelies! Take a moment to review because reviews are like being "distracted" by Carlisle. ;) ~Jen_**


	23. Ursine Encounter

I hadn't gotten tired of the sheer joy of running as a vampire. It amazed me the way the world whipped past me in a constant blur of color and texture, but even at the speed I was traveling I could see every detail. I took it all in, soaking in the beauty of the forest around me while allowing my muscles the chance to really work for the first time in over a day and half. I wasn't really able to let loose running with Eleazar; he couldn't keep up with my speed and he was constantly nervous that I would come across a human scent. But Carlisle was both faster than Eleazar and more comfortable with me, so I could really let myself fly on this run.

I tried to stay beside Carlisle, only darting ahead occasionally and then rounding around and coming back up next to him. On my third pass, Carlisle began laughing at me.

_Edward, stop_, he thought, doubling over with laughter. "I'm sorry. I feel as though I'm running with an overzealous Labrador with you circling me so."

I looked at him, trying to judge his words. Seeing myself in his mind brought the image home completely. I was quite a humorous sight. If my tongue had been hanging out, it would have completed the metaphor. I started smirking at his memory and that only spurred Carlisle on to full out guffaws at my expense.

"Alright," I said. "I get it. I'm ridiculously exuberant when I run. Why did you want me to stop?"

He laughed harder for a moment at my impatience. And I was impatient; it felt so good to be able to work my muscles this way, really pushing them to their limits.

"We're coming up to the lake now," he said, sobering. He handed me one of the oil skin bags that he was carrying and I creased my brows. "Strip. Down to your long johns."

"You can't be serious," I said. None of us had taken jackets but we had been running so much that none of us noticed the cold. But it had to be below freezing. It was the end of October in Chicago which was not the most forgiving time of year. And yet I looked over as both Eleazar and Carlisle began the process of removing their shoes.

_What are you afraid of, Edward?_ Carlisle asked. _The cold has no effect on us._

I looked around and exhaled, waiting to see my breath in the cold air. Nothing. I held out my arm and watched it move through the air, expecting to see sweat shining on my skin from the run and goose bumps popping up from the cold. Nothing. "Huh," I said. "That's convenient, I guess."

They both laughed at me and I began removing my shoes and socks. I placed them in the oil skin bag and then started with my shirt with a slight shake of my head. When I was left standing in my calf length long john pants, I looked up at Carlisle and Eleazar as I folded my clothes.

"Now what?" I asked them. "Did you pack some sort of diving dress for us? I saw Lake Michigan in your mind, so unless you have a some sort of boat for us to row, I don't see how we're going to get across."

"So we _were_ able to trick you," Eleazar mused.

"Not hard, seeing as you switched to Russian or Latin every time you thought of the lake," I groused.

"We're going to swim, Edward," Carlisle said.

"Swim," I said. "Am I . . . are we . . . How?"

"This will be much like running for you," Carlisle responded. "Our kind are quite proficient swimmers and we are gifted with some adaptations that make swimming extremely easy."

"Adaptations?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"Think of when you woke up," Carlisle suggested. "You told me that breathing felt 'wrong' to you then, am I right?"

"Yes," I said slowly. "It felt . . . unnecessary."

_Hold your breath, Edward_, Carlisle said calmly. Instinctively, I took in a deep breath and held it. I waited for the tightness to begin and then the burning in my chest as my lungs protested being denied oxygen. I looked around the forest, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. I looked at Carlisle and Eleazar, my eyes widened with questions.

_Let out your breath but do not breathe in again_, Eleazar instructed. I looked at him doubtfully. Perhaps we could hold our breath longer than humans, but he was suggesting that breathing was . . . unnecessary. I let the breath out. When all the air was out of my lungs, I clamped my lips closed and resisted the natural urge to breathe in deeply. My lungs didn't protest. I snapped my eyes up to Carlisle.

"We don't need to breathe," I whispered.

"Well, we need to breathe in order to speak," he said. "And it is fairly uncomfortable to cut off our sense of smell; but no, we do not require oxygen."

"So I can swim underwater . . ." I began.

_Indefinitely_, Carlisle finished in my mind. I could do nothing more than look at him. This news should have been traumatic, frightening. Instead, it gave me a strange sense of exhilaration and excitement. I wanted to see how far I could push this body.

"You will see some amazing things," Eleazar said. "I have never swum in this water before, but we are able to see through the murky water much better than humans. Keep your eyes open when we are under, Edward. You never know what you will see."

We began running again and I was filled with both anticipation and trepidation. The thought of being able to swim underwater for as long as I wanted was exciting. However, now that I knew that vampires were real, I couldn't help myself from wondering what else might be lurking around the world and under the waters of Lake Michigan. As we approached the dark waters and I began to smell the cool, clear water, a curling fear took up residence in my belly. What _would_ I see in the depths?

Carlisle had told me on my first hunt that there were no more dangerous predators than myself out that night; did the same hold true everywhere? I could feel the need to defend myself rising in my gut and with it came the increased attention to every detail around me. Within seconds we were standing at the edge of the lake, my nose filled with the pungent odor of the fresh water.

"You can tie the oil skin bag to your back; it won't hinder your swimming in the least," Carlisle said as he tied his own bag to his back. I noticed that he was standing with his toes in the water.

"What does . . ." I began, frowning at myself and my hesitation. "What does it feel like?"

_You already know that we have heightened sensations; the water hasn't changed, but your ability to process the feel of it on your body has changed. It is quite pleasurable, Edward. Don't be frightened._

I scowled at him, embarrassed that he had guessed my trepidation. But he only smiled in return. _Edward,_ he thought. _We can never forget anything. I remember the fear and the excitement and the embarrassment. I remember it all; you don't need to feel ashamed. We wouldn't take you anywhere that would endanger you. You can trust us; this is meant to be fun_.

I sighed, tying the bag to my back and walking up the gravelly beach to the waterline. The pebbles should have been sharp and painful on my bare feet. Instead, they crunched smoothly under my feet causing no more than a pleasurable sliding feeling along the soles of my feet. I could hear the scraping and crunching, knowing that my feet were actually breaking some of the rocks, but I couldn't feel any sharp pains as the jagged edges touched my skin. I approached the water, and without hesitation, plunged my feet in.

The water was . . . exquisite. I'd showered since I was changed and the feeling of that hot water pouring over my skin was, indeed, incredible. I had been fairly impressed with my skin's ability to adjust itself to the temperature of the water. So much so that I had adjusted the temperature of the water a few times just to see what my skin would do. Like stone, my skin would adjust to the temperature of the water turning from warm to cold and then back to warm again.

But this water felt so much different. It was heavier than I expected, sliding along the skin of my feet like oil. It wasn't sticky like oil, but it felt soft, almost like a brush of satin. It was such an amazing feeling that I involuntarily closed my eyes in pleasure. I couldn't wait to feel that softness wrapped around my entire body.

"So, exactly how fast can we swim?" I asked.

"Nearly as fast as we can run," Carlisle said without batting an eyelash. "We are quite well equipped for swimming and it would be an ideal environment for us were it not for the fact that it cuts off our sense of smell. It puts us at a large disadvantage when hunting in the water."

"Hunting . . . in the water," I said. "You mean fish and the like?"

"Fish are a possibility," Carlisle said, considering. "But the smaller ones are hardly worth the effort. You need a big one to make it worth the effort of catching them. Shark is quite delicious, actually."

"You've . . ." I began. "Never mind. Suspending disbelief."

He chuckled. _There are so many things I want to show you_, he thought.

I smiled back at him, considering for the first time the number of things he must have seen in his long life. I couldn't imagine the pain of seeing all of the sights he had and knowing that there was no one to share it with. I was glad to be able to offer that to him: friendship. It seemed such a long wait for him to have someone to share his experiences with. I could tell that he was just as excited about my first swim as I now was.

"You've never swum with another vampire," I said to Carlisle, seeing the anticipation in his mind and guessing at the cause.

"No," he said. "I've swum on my own, of course, but this will be my first time with others."

I saw in his mind a lonely swim from long ago and the desperation that sent him on that journey.

"What was that?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I'll tell you about it sometime," he said, smiling. "Right now, let's swim."

He ran into the lake and dove under looking more like a white seal than a man. Eleazar was quick to follow him. When he was about waist deep in the water, he turned back to me and gestured with his arm.

"Come, Edward," he said, smiling broadly. "The water is wonderful!"

"Right," I said, shaking my head. I ran after him, splashing water around me as I went and dove under the water just as I passed him.

Carlisle was right. I was made to swim. The water made my powerful body weightless and I flitted through the water with ease. The waning light had little effect on my sight; I could see Carlisle turn around and float, beckoning to me, about ten meters ahead of me. And I watched as Eleazar's curly hair floated past me. He was smiling menacingly as he passed me.

I gave a small kick and found myself propelled through the water toward Carlisle. He had already turned around and was moving again, angling himself downward into the lake. I looked up and could see the billowing line of the surface some forty feet up. It sparkled and shined above us. I let loose a small cloud of bubbles and watched as they floated up to the top. I could see each one as it went. I held my pale white hand out in front of me and was fascinated by the way it moved the water around me. I could see all of the disturbances in the murky water that my movements were causing.

I looked down as I began to swim again, trying to catch up to my friends. Some ways down I saw what looked like a dividing line in the water. I caught up to Carlisle and pointed down at it, questioning it in my mind.

_It is where the cold waters of the deep mix with the warmer waters. We can go down to it if you like_.

I nodded eagerly and kicked off after him, wondering how deep we already were and how deep we could go. I thought about the pressure that must have been pushing on us. I remembered vaguely swimming as a human. I never really enjoyed it. I had a lot of ear problems as a child and when I would go under more than a foot or two of water, the pain in my head was excruciating. I was under a lot more than a foot of water now but I felt no pressure within my head or on my body. We were at a depth now where I should have felt some sort of pressure on my chest as the water pushed in on my rib cage. I imagined that it was having difficulty dealing with my stony skin.

The dividing line that Carlisle spoke of was invisible up close. But as I looked around the water, I could see that we were close to what could only be described as a trench. The lake bed was so wide that even with my perfect eyesight I could not see both sides. I looked around the lake bottom, seeing different vegetation that peppered the bottom along with the silt that had to be eons old. But I could see that there were edges to the lake bottom that dropped off and into a dark, deep area that I could not see the bottom of.

_Do you want to go down?_ Carlisle asked.

I shook my head quickly. I wasn't afraid any more of strange beings lurking in the lake, or monsters; I was just fearful of the dark. It was silly, really. I had become a vampire, a creature of the dark and night at least in the minds of humans. But the darkness that I saw in that trench was unlike anything that I had ever experienced or imagined. I didn't want to be surrounded by it.

_Good_, Carlisle returned. _I didn't really want to go down there either_.

I smiled back at him and followed him as we continued on along the lake floor for a ways. I drug my hand along the silt that had built up along the bottom. It was softer than I could have ever imagined. I was moving fast enough that by the time I lifted my finger up to inspect it, the silt had been washed away, but I imagined that it would have been thick like rich mud on my finger. I was so busy examining the mud and the silt that I nearly had a collision of sorts.

_Edward!_ both Carlisle and Eleazar called out. I looked up to find myself mere meters from the bow of a broken ship. I tried to stop all at once and ended up looking fairly humorous as I flailed around in the water for a second or two. And then I floated for a few moments, taking in the former majesty of the sunken ship.

She had three masts and looked to be covered in the green gunk of the lake bottom. I wondered how long she had been down here. I looked over at Carlisle for confirmation and he nodded.

_We can explore. We have plenty of time_.

We all swam forward slowly, all overwhelmed by the majesty of the ship in front of us. I gently touched the wood of her bow, running my fingers along the now water-worn sides. It was nearly as soft as the bottom of the lake, but pliable. I moved my hand back immediately, afraid that I might inadvertently break the battered wood.

_Edward_, Carlisle called to me softly. _Come here. I've found something_.

I swam over to where I saw his feet. As I came around the corner of the broken middle of the ship, I saw what he had found. There, lying on the lake floor, was the broken deck of the ship with her wheel still nearly completely intact. Carlisle was touching the knob of the wheel, brushing away the algae that had built up and finding the wood underneath.

I looked at Eleazar who was swimming slowly through the wreck, careful not to touch anything. I saw something glinting over near where he was and swam to investigate. I reached down, finding a stock of glass bottles that were preserved, completely unbroken. It amazed me that the ship could have sustained such a violent pummeling at the hands of the lake and yet these fragile glass bottles remained in tact.

We swam away from the ship without ever discovering her name. Carlisle had found what had once been her nameplate, but the painted letters had been worn away long ago. We swam for a long while and as we swam I pondered the ship and its contents. There were no traces of the people who had obviously been a part of her demise: no skeletons within the wreckage, no loose shoes. Had they all made it out alive or had they been swallowed by the lake, leaving no trace of their existence? It was a frightening thought, one that gave me chills despite my inability to feel the cold.

Lost in those thoughts, I came face to face with what I believed to be a sea monster. It had what looked to be large scales running up its back and strange points along its sides. It had the dead, shiny eyes that all fish possess whether living or deceased. As soon as it was close enough to me to sense me with its gills, it turned and flitted away, but the panic had already seized me. I shot to the surface of the lake and broke through to the air, gulping it in my horror. Carlisle was right behind me. He broke the surface right next to me, scanning the horizon for stray boats.

"What the hell was that?" I burst out, forgetting my manners in my fright.

"It was a lake sturgeon, Edward," he said in what should have been a calming tone, but it came out dismissively as he continued to scan for potential threats. I imagined that it would be difficult to explain what the three of us were doing in the middle of Lake Michigan in our underwear at nighttime.

"Oh," I said.

"I don't smell any ships anywhere near us," he said, turning to me. "Why don't we stay closer to the surface for the rest of the way. We only have about another hour left of swimming before we reach the island."

"Island?" I asked. "I thought we were going to Canada."

"We are. We're headed to a small island off the coast of Canada called Manitoulin Island. A large percentage of the island is devoid of humans so we will be safe for the couple days that we will be there. The island is located in Lake Huron; it looks as though we've already exited Lake Michigan."

"Carlisle," I said. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. _I wasn't angry with you. I was concerned that someone might see you._

I nodded and followed him under the water just low enough that we wouldn't come in contact with passing boats should we encounter any. As we swam, Carlisle plagued himself with all of the things that he was sure he had done wrong with me so far. He worried that he was exposing me to too much danger just by bringing me on this short trip. I made a note to myself to tell him that I appreciated the things he was doing for me. I didn't thank him enough; he had taken me in and given me a home after my parents died. Not even mentioning the fact that he had saved me from the point of death.

I was still unsure whether I was thankful for that; everything was so new and unbelievable about this life right now. I didn't fully understand what I had become or what the new life would mean for me. I worried that I wouldn't be able to live up to his expectations of me or his own example. I guessed that, no matter what, I would always have to work harder than he had. His conscience seemed ingrained in him and I doubted that he could have slipped up even if given the opportunity. I knew that he denied this, but I felt that it was an accurate estimation of him. But would working hard be enough to save my soul? Did I even have a soul any longer? These were heavy questions that I had no answers for.

* * *

Just as Carlisle predicted we made landfall about an hour later. There was a thick, inky blackness surrounding the island that accompanied the lack of human population. I hadn't ever been in any truly unpopulated areas. Even near Carlisle's home and the wildlife preserve near it, humans lived within a couple of miles and the ambient light was enough to give a soft glow to the countryside. This island was pure blackness.

It wasn't uncomfortable for me though; I was still able to see by the light of the full moon. In fact, that light gave everything a luminescent quality that delighted my eyes. I smiled, catching the way the water shone off of my friends as they exited the water and threw their gear on the pebbled beach.

The pebbles on this island were softer than the ones on the shore of lake Michigan. They didn't break beneath my feet; they just rubbed and compacted together, conforming to the shape of my foot. Carlisle stepped away from us and shook his hair out, spraying water droplets around us. Eleazar did the same. I watched them, amazed that they managed to look impressive even as they shook the water from themselves like dogs. I shrugged subtly and began doing the same, feeling the way my wet hair slapped at my cheekbones. My hair was definitely a bit too long.

"I packed some towels in my bag," Carlisle said, reaching in and handing out towels.

The bag had managed to keep everything remarkably dry. I removed the clinging long johns and replaced them with my packed clothes. Although the cold didn't affect me at all, it was comforting to cover up in familiar clothes.

"Are you thirsty, Edward?" Eleazar asked.

I rolled my eyes at him. "When in the last week _haven't_ I been thirsty?"

"Good point," he said. "Shall we see what bounty this island has to offer?"

I smiled, knowing that I looked very much the part of a vampire when I smiled so widely. I had been surprised at first that I didn't have fangs; I had expected to run my tongue over my teeth that first day and feel my canine teeth lengthened and pointed. Instead, I had found an entire mouthful of razor sharp teeth. When I smiled widely, my teeth glinted in the light and became menacing reminders of what my mouth was capable of. But I wasn't as concerned about that now. I was surrounded by friends and we were here to hunt. Relaxing into what was now my nature seemed appropriate and somewhat freeing.

We hung our bags from one of the trees and were off through the forest. My muscles reveled in the different activities that I was allowing them this evening. I was enjoying running so much that I nearly missed the smell that wafted towards me. Nearly. But I caught it, nonetheless.

I froze, my body crouched and ready to attack. Carlisle and Eleazar stopped just in front of me, inhaling deeply. They could smell it as well.

"It's a family of black bears," Eleazar said, the thirst creeping into his voice. He had abstained from hunting the past two times that we had gone out in anticipation of this night. Both he and Carlisle were quite thirsty.

Ever the pragmatist, Carlisle thought of me and my unchecked feral instincts.

_Do you want to hunt first, Edward?_ he thought.

Despite the fact that my instincts were telling me to run away from them in order to claim my prey, this was something that I wanted. I wanted to hunt with my friends. This was something that I would need to train myself to do and I knew that they would work with me. I shook my head after much internal debate.

"No," I said, my voice low and rough. "Let's hunt together. I will try not to attack you."

They both turned their heads quickly and looked at me. I stared straight ahead for a couple of seconds before breaking out into a grin.

"I really will try, but I think I'm fine," I said less seriously.

They both shook their heads, but neither of them laughed. I imagined that an attack from a newborn vampire wasn't the thing that they wanted on their relaxing hunting trip.

We took off on the trail of the bears, easily following the scent that came to us. After we had traveled about three and a half miles, Carlisle motioned for us to slow down and quiet our movements. The scent was unbearably close. I could now hear their heartbeats and their soft foraging sounds in the night.

They sensed us. I could tell even without seeing them that they knew we were there by the increased heart rate and the powerful smell of adrenaline that puffed towards us. I could hear the sounds of two large animals on the ground, shuffling away from us slowly as they sensed that we were dangerous. Also, I heard a larger animal coming towards us. I guessed that this was a male intent on protecting his females.

_You will take the male, Edward_, Carlisle thought. _Eleazar and I will go after the females_. _Go!_

They took off, but I waited; I wanted to bring the bear in closer to me, allow him to smell me and make it a game. I was thirsty, but not crazed. I wanted to enjoy this. The bear stopped just outside of my sightline and I heard him grunt in surprise at the scent that assaulted his nose. Whether he smelled me yet or the two vampires that had just gone around him, I wasn't sure, but he was definitely aware that something was wrong with the prey in front of him.

I crouched low, bringing myself closer to the ground so that I could focus on the sounds of the padded paws approaching me ever more cautiously. A low, purring growl rose in my throat as the smell of fear began to roll off of him, hitting my nose and deepening the scent of his blood. The bear rounded the corner; he was larger than I had anticipated, all rolling muscles under the dark, black fur. My growl deepened as the bear came into view, staking my claim as the more dominant predator. Everything was instinct now as I began inching closer to the bear, watching his hackles rise in anger and defense.

I leapt to the side in a blinding motion, landing on an outcropping of rocks and looking down on the bewildered bear. He rose to his hind flanks, sniffing the air to find where I had disappeared to.

"Boo," I hissed, jumping to a low-lying branch of a nearby tree, swinging up into the higher branches. The bear couldn't follow my movements, but he located me faster this time, leveling his gaze on me as I leapt from branch to branch in a series of blinding jumps. I knew that my movements were confusing the bear as I watched his head dart back and forth. He fell to his front paws in confusion, fear subsiding as he considered what I was doing. I leapt one last time, just in behind the bear.

His great body surged up again, and his height loomed above me. I easily jumped up and clung to the bear's back, burying my hands into his fur until I could feel the warmth of his blood next to my hands. Feeling the warmth and hearing the thudding heartbeat so close to my mouth caused the venom to pool in my mouth, begging me to go in for the killing bite. Just as I was pulling myself up, the bear bent forward and then threw me back.

I landed on my feet with a feral growl on my lips. I stalked back at the bear, intent now on its demise. I walked straight at it, a laugh escaping my lips as its claws screeched against my chest, small sparks flying. I pushed his arm away and the bear turned, bounding towards the tree. He began to shimmy up the tree, but I was much faster than he was. I grabbed his back leg and pulled him back to the earth, eliciting a scream of terror from the bear. In the end, it was a mercy I performed, ending his life quickly and in a rush of hot, pulsing blood.

I heard the others' thoughts as I was finishing with the bear; I found that their thoughts became low droning buzzes as I hunted. After I finished and pushed the dead carcass away from myself, I stood and began the process of burying the bear. They arrived as I added the last of the dirt over the carcass. I took a quick look at myself through Carlisle's eyes, noting that I was remarkably unscathed after my encounter. Just some small tears in my shirt from the bear's claws.

"You are getting better," Eleazar said. _Perhaps soon, you will be able to do this without tearing your shirt._

"Very funny, Eleazar," I said. "What's next?"

They both chuckled and motioned for me to follow them. We ran to the edge of a clearing. It was really very beautiful. There was a ring of trees around the clearing and as we exited the forest, my eyes were drawn upward to the beautiful stars on display. They were perfect pinpricks in the dark tapestry of the night, and my perfect eyesight took in their light greedily.

"I hardly think we are going to find any animals here," I said with a wry smile. I had seen in their minds what they had planned on the way over here; tonight they would teach me how to fight.

"Are you still thirsty?" Carlisle asked with concern. "I would have thought that bear would have slacked your thirst for the evening, but we can go back if you need more."

"No, Carlisle," I said shaking my head. "I was teasing; I'm sorry. I know what you have planned."

_Of course you do_, he thought. _How will I ever surprise you?_

"I don't know Russian yet," I offered. I was nearly proficient at understanding Spanish, although my accent left a bit to be desired.

"But I'm sure you will soon enough," Carlisle said, smiling. "You dislike being at a disadvantage, don't you?"

"Don't you?" I countered.

He cocked his head to the side, but did not answer me. Looking into his mind offered me a picture of Carlisle that I had never really imagined before. I saw pictures of him at different times in his existence, times when he had found himself with others like himself. I didn't yet know the stories behind these memories, but I could see that having the upper hand was never a priority for Carlisle. He reveled in the banter and friendly camaraderie that interaction with others provided for him, but he didn't seek to showcase his superiority. I lowed my eyes from his feeling slightly ashamed of myself for my inability to be as self-effacing as Carlisle.

He put his hand on my shoulder and looked deeply into my eyes. _I've had centuries to come to terms with my inadequacies, Edward. They don't bother me very much at all. You are still quite young, in many senses of that word. Humility may come to you later_.

I chuckled, remembering a faint human memory of my father speaking to me in his study when I was very young and fired up about some injustice done to me. His words were very similar to Carlisle's.

"You sound very much like my father," I said finally. I read the longing in his mind that he quickly tried to hide. I knew, of course, how much he wished to fill that void in my life. Truly, I wanted that as well. But I just . . . couldn't. Not yet. Luckily, Eleazar saved us from this awkward moment.

"Come!" he called from the middle of field. "If you already know what we are going to do, come and get me then! I bet you cannot catch me, even with your vast advantage."

He stood in the middle of the clearing, crouched and defensive, waiting for me to attack him. I studied him for a moment, seeing him analyze me as well. He was sizing me up, trying to read my minute motions to determine where I might attack from first. I could see every counter-move that he had planned.

"Eleazar," Carlisle said lowly. "Don't taunt the newborn."

I scoffed at him, pushing his hand away from my shoulder in mock anger.

"Have some faith!" I said.

_Go easy on him son_, he said, his eyes darting up to mine in a silent plea. I nodded my head slightly, giving him permission.

"I . . ." I said softly. "I can't . . ."

_It's fine,_ he thought. _You don't have to._ And Carlisle was perhaps the happiest that I had ever seen him.

* * *

I ambled forward, an intimidating smile on my lips. _I have seen far worse than you, young one. You are going to have to do better than that to frighten me_.

"Some rules," Carlisle called out, breaking my concentration as he flitted between of us. "First, no teeth. Winner will be decided by pinning their opponent with their arms or legs and their teeth close to their opponent's neck. Any teeth to skin contact will result in immediate removal from the field." _Don't doubt that I can take you off this field, Edward_.

I smiled at him. "And second?" I asked sweetly.

"And second," he nearly growled. "This is for fun. Eleazar, he won't learn anything if you get angry with him. He'll just get angry as well and possibly injure you."

Eleazar simply nodded. He was all business now. Carlisle threw his hands up in the air and ran to the outskirts of the ring of trees. I could hear him muttering beneath his breath about what he had gotten himself into and how was he ever going to drag me away when Eleazar pushed me too far.

I could tell that Eleazar was intent on proving a point to me. He had watched me in my dance with the bear and thought that I was overly cocky in my new abilities. He wanted to show me that, unlike Carlisle's promise to me on our first hunting trip, I was not the most dangerous predator in the forest tonight.

_You are going to need training, young one_, he thought. _I want to give that to you. But you must remember what we are about here. You can only truly hurt me if you bite me_.

I nodded my head in understanding. I had bitten my knuckle the other day in frustration after improperly conjugating a Spanish verb and was left with a nasty mark on my skin. Later, Carlisle explained that the only thing that could tear through my vampire skin was vampire teeth. I realized the severity of the situation should I inadvertently bite him.

We paced around the circle for several minutes: Eleazar sizing me up, me reading his mind. I could see him playing out the battle in his mind, imagining me coming at him from different angles. I realized then that I had an even greater advantage over him than he realized. He had forgotten that I could see the pictures that he thinking about. I could see the battle playing out in his head. He was teaching me to fight as he analyzed how I might approach him.

Without warning I lunged at him, catching him off-guard. He caught me, baring his teeth and threw me unceremoniously across the clearing. I could see the ground moving beneath me and I managed to land on my feet. Without pausing, I charged at him again, changing my direction when he had decided which way he was going to defend against me. I pinned him in under thirty seconds.

"Gotcha," I said, picking him up.

He growled as he got up and I saw the thought in his mind as his hands started to react. He was grabbing my wrists, but I flipped my hands over and swung him around, letting go on the third revolution. He flew through the air and landed just short of the trees, flipping himself back up immediately. He was ready to charge back at me and I was calmly preparing myself for his attack when Carlisle stepped in front of him blocking his path.

"He pinned you," Carlisle snarled, crouching low. "It's over."

"He cheated," Eleazar hissed, crouching and circling Carlisle.

"He can't help his gift," Carlisle reminded him. "You said yourself that it would prove to be a strong offensive weapon for him. How can you begrudge his using it?"

"He wasn't supposed to beat me so quickly," Eleazar said. "How will he ever learn?"

"Perhaps I can give you more of a challenge," Carlisle said, baring his teeth. _Edward, _he thought_. Clear the field_.

I didn't waste time thinking about his words; I ran for the tree line and leaped into a nearby pine tree to watch the fight. It was fascinating to watch not only their bodies moving, but also their minds at work. They prowled around each other like large jungle cats, snarling at each other and talking in hisses and growls. There was anger there in both of their minds. Carlisle at a perceived injustice to me and Eleazar at Carlisle for protecting me. This was going to be more than just a fun sparring session; their thoughts became cold, calculating. I realized for the first time that both of them must have fought other vampires in the past. It was a shocking thought and I wondered whether that was why they had planned this trip. Perhaps they were worried that I would face a real opponent someday and wished me to be prepared. I settled into my tree and looked down upon the two vampires sizing each other up on the field below.

The match lasted for nearly three-quarters of an hour. It consisted of posturing, circling, and all out wrestling. In the end, Carlisle won the day, but only by the skin of his teeth. He ended with teeth millimeters from Eleazar's throat and hissed at him, "For my son." It sent a thrill through me to hear him say that even though I knew it was a whisper only meant for Eleazar's ears. I knew that I was in no position to return his familial devotion; my own emotions were still in a snarl about my family's demise. But to hear him voice his feelings for me so openly healed an open wound in me. I leapt down from the tree and walked over to them. They were still locked in their final pose.

"Alright," I said lightly. "Break it up, boys. You've made your point, Carlisle."

_Have I?_ he thought, raising his head to look at me.

I removed the suspenders from my shoulders and took off my torn shirt. "Are you ready to put me in my place now?"

He rose and faced me stone faced.

_I can't fight you_, he said.

"Of course you can," I said. "Carlisle, I'm a vampire. You can't hurt me; you've said this yourself." I flicked my eyes over to Eleazar who was adjusting his shirt behind Carlisle. "And I need to learn."

I nodded to Eleazar as I said this and he nodded back, understanding. I knew that things were fine between the two of us but I needed Carlisle to see that I was never in any danger from Eleazar.

_I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you_, he thought.

"Trust me," I said softly, echoing the words that he had said to me so many times since I had awoken as a new vampire. He nodded slightly and crouched lithely to the ground.

Eleazar had removed himself from the field and taken up residence in the tree. As Carlisle and I circled each other, he called to us from the tree.

"Take him down, Edward," he called. "Show him what you can do."

I smiled at his bantering words. Carlisle rolled his eyes at him and then turned back to me. His thoughts were fuzzy; he was still concerned about doing this.

"Come on, Carlisle," I growled. "You were much more focused when you fought with Eleazar. You must not think I'm a worthy adversary."

His eyes snapped open as he realized what I was doing. His lips curled into a tight smile and then formed a feral grimace.

_Alright, boy_, he thought. _Show me._

He lunged, more quickly than Eleazar had but I saw where he wanted to go before he had moved and was ready for him. I danced lightly out of his way and he blew past me. I turned to face him, beckoning him with my hand. His eyebrows knitted in frustration as he charged again, arms out ready to embrace me. I waited until he was nearly on top of me and then jumped out of his way. I came down just behind him but he had anticipated where I would land. He changed course and grappled with me as I landed.

I knew where his arms were going before he placed them and anticipated each of his moves. As we moved in this lightning dance, I began laughing at the sheer power I was feeling. I finally tired of constantly working ahead of him and had him pinned in just over a minute.

"See?" I said.

"Indeed," he said. "You will be deadly when you are fully trained."

"What do you mean?" I asked, as I offered him my hand to get up. "From what will I need to protect myself?"

He reached down and handed me my shirt. _Come Edward,_ he thought. _I think that it's time that I told you some of my history._

_**A/N: So . . . what did you think about our boys' hunting trip? If there are any of you who have actually done a dive in a lake, please excuse me if I didn't get all of the details correct; I'm more of a pre-vampire Edward swimmer than a post-change swimmer. :) You'd never find me several meters under the water, so I do hope that the details I imagined were enough to bring you into that world. Manitoulin Island is a real island although in reality it is inhabited. I made it nearly uninhabited because I didn't want to have to deal with that type of angst. ;) Also, a very cool snippet. While I was researching stuff about the Lakes and their underwater world, I came across the story of a sunken tug boat by the name of the "Mary Alice B." I absolutely would have included her here, but she didn't sink until 1930. I just thought you all would enjoy that. I know I did! About Carlisle and Edward's dance around the terms "son" and "father" . . . I imagined that it would be easier for Edward to allow Carlisle to call him "son" than it would be for him to call Carlisle "father." I wanted to show that there has been some deepening in this relationship over the past couple of weeks, but that Edward is still uncomfortable with the idea that he is somehow replacing his human family. Don't worry; that magic moment will come. I hope that you enjoyed the fun in this chapter. Next chapter looks to be fairly fun as well with some Carlisle story-telling! Oh! For those of you who have been following the Faithful Shipper Awards, they will announce the stories that made it to the next round on Wednesday, March 31. If you have Twitter, you can follow me on there for updates on the contest and other goings on in the fandom. Find me javamomma0921. Thanks for all your support with this contest! Leave me some love, because reviews are like Edward shirtless in the moonlight. ;) ~Jen**_


	24. The Standing Stones

The exhilaration of fighting was still coursing through my body as we bounded through the forest. Eleazar and I were carrying on a light conversation as we ran, but Carlisle's thoughts were focused and unreadable; he was thinking in French this time, a language I had a rudimentary familiarity with from school.

_How did you get so talented as a fighter?_ Eleazar thought.

I shrugged nonchalantly and then smiled widely at him. "But you taught me yourself," I said.

_What do you mean? _He asked incredulously. _I only fought you for fifteen seconds at the most! How could I have taught you anything?_

I pointed to my head. "You showed me."

He thought for a moment, trying to imagine how and when and then seemed to have an epiphany. _Oh!_ he thought. _How interesting. I knew you were using your gift, but I was unsure how. Very interesting indeed._

"The movements were just reactions, Eleazar," I said. "I knew what you were going to do at the same time you did. You were right; I was cheating. But in my defense, I couldn't help it. You _were_ screaming at me."

He chuckled. _You frustrated me!_

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Forgiven," he said.

We ran for several more minutes before Carlisle finally stopped. We were in the middle of a ring of stones. Their strange blue surfaces seemed to glow in the moonlight. I walked slowly around the strange circle, carefully touching the smooth surfaces. Each rock was covered in places with the softest coating of green lichen that made them fuzzy. I wondered at the story behind the strange stones. They seemed to be infused with both majesty and magic, filling me with a sense of wonder.

"What are they?" I asked in the low whisper.

"Nothing more than stones," Carlisle replied. "They were arranged in this fashion long ago and they have been hidden here ever since."

"Forgive me," I said, chuckling. "It just seems that in the past several days, the line between reality and fantasy has become very faint indeed."

"I can imagine," Carlisle said. "That is one of the reasons why we came on this trip. You deserve some answers. You must have so many questions."

I did. In fact, over the past several days my mind had been riddled with questions. If vampires were real, what else was out there? If vampires were so powerful, who could possibly challenge us? But one question had pestered me more than any other. I was intensely curious about the strange-looking vampire that both Carlisle and Eleazar thought about when they learned of my gift. I wanted to know more about Aro.

I walked around the ring of stones as I tried to decide how best to word this question. Although it was clear that my gift linked me to the strange vampire, I could not understand why thoughts of him were so vastly different in my two friends' minds. Eleazar nearly worshipped him when he thought of his former master. There was distance there now; but still, whatever magnetic force it was that drew him in was still at work in Eleazar's thoughts. But Carlisle viewed him with reserved judgment. I knew from hurried conversations that we'd shared that Carlisle had spent some time in Volterra with the Volturi but left when they repeatedly attempted to convert him to their diet. I believe that Carlisle resented the vampires that he found to be so civilized because they refused to even try his way of life. He thought that the way of life that they had chosen was beneath the level of civility that they attempted to maintain.

I didn't think that Carlisle would ever come out and say such a thing to anyone. It was not in his nature to pass judgment on others because of their choices. Still, he couldn't hide his resentment from my gift and I could see it there every time he thought of Aro. No, perhaps bringing up Carlisle and Eleazar's history with the Volturi was not in anyone's best interest tonight. I decided to focus on that blurry line between reality and fantasy for this evening.

"What is real?" I asked quietly, my head bowed against the great rock. "If vampires are real, what else from my world of fantasy is real? Mother used to talk of the Banshee in Ireland. Is she real? Or witches, warlocks and werewolves? How do I know what is real and what is fantasy?"

They grew hesitant, wondering what I could handle and what I couldn't. They seemed to be running through tales they had heard during their long lives and at the same time trying to hide their musings from me.

"You do understand that it's impossible to hide this from me?" I asked.

"I do," Carlisle said. "That doesn't mean that I don't wish to shield you from the more terrifying things that this world holds."

A shiver ran through my body at the word terrifying. But then the sheer lunacy of my fear hit me all at once. Here I stood in a ring of ancient stones . . . a vampire. A member of the living dead surrounded by two others of my kind. What could possibly be more terrifying than me?

"I'm not a defenseless human anymore, Carlisle," I said softly. "I was in more danger before I had the flu than I am now. Isn't that right? Although you have possibly more control than any other vampire Eleazar has ever met, didn't you pose more of a threat to me then than you do now?"

He bowed his head. _I thought about that each time I visited with you. I warned myself that I was being reckless allowing myself into your world. I tried to back away, distance myself from you_.

"When you left my house before Father died?"

He nodded. _You remember?_

"I do," I said, squinting my eyes to try to see my memories more clearly. "You had come over for a visit. Mother asked me to do something for her and when I got back you said you needed to leave. Did I do something wrong?"

_No,_ he thought sadly. _But I did. You're mother called you away to help her with the washer. While you were gone I thought about what a dutiful son you were. I'm ashamed to admit that I already thought about you as the son that I would never have. When you went to help her, I was overcome with thoughts of what it would be like to be . . . a family. It was wrong of me. And it was putting you in more danger that I was willing to put you in._

"Did you want to change me then?" I asked warily. I could feel the bond that I had formed with him slowly breaking apart. I had been able to understand why he changed me on my deathbed. But would I be able to forgive him if I thought he had wanted to change me all along?

"No!" he exclaimed. "It was never that. I never even thought about changing you until your mother begged me to save you. It was just . . ."

He stumbled on his words, trying to piece together the fragmented feelings that developing a friendship with me had roused in him. He walked over to me so that he could look directly into my eyes.

"It was just that I could imagine what my life would have been like if I was not what I am," he said. "You are the son that I would have wanted had I lived the life God intended me to live. But I didn't deserve those types of emotions and longings. I didn't deserve to think of you like that. I was your mentor, nothing more. I wasn't a surrogate father or even a favored uncle. I was a vampire. And, as you said, more dangerous to you than you could ever imagine."

I looked down, breathing deeply and trying to quell the emotions that his words had stirred in me. I wanted to give Carlisle what he dreamed of; I wanted to be the son that he had longed for. But I was Edward and Elizabeth Masen's son. And no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I still felt that Carlisle took me away from them in the end. I was happy to be with Carlisle, but I still missed my parents. Despite the fact that I missed them, I was just beginning to realize that if I somehow found them now, they would likely be terrified of me.

That thought was the one that shattered me. I remembered my parents as they prepared for church in the morning. I remembered my mother's superstitions and her old Irish stories. I remembered the fairy tales she told me as a child and the ghost stories that my father shared around the campfire. Always, I shivered in delight as they told me their stories filled with fear and the delicious unknown. But now I stalked the very world that they told about in their stories. I was one of the monsters that they had feared.

"What are you thinking, Edward?" Eleazar asked.

"I was just imagining what my superstitious mother would think of me now," I whispered, gripping one of the smaller standing stones in my hand. The two divots that my hands were holding on to crumbled into powder.

"Your mother would love you without hesitation," Carlisle said. He was so sure of himself, so confident that my mother wouldn't run away in fear at the sight of my perfected stone visage and my blood-red eyes.

"You can't know that," I hissed. "You can't know what she would think if she knew what kind of monster I've become."

"But you're not a monster!" Carlisle roared, angry with me for the first time. "Don't you see? You are the same person that you were before."

"Only now I thirst for the blood of those I used to love," I spat at him. "Yes, I see how I am _exactly_ the same, Carlisle."

"I walk among humans every day," Carlisle said. "I have never slipped. You don't need to be a monster!"

"It doesn't matter what I choose," I said. "I am what I am! I'm damned regardless, if such a term has any meaning for a being who cannot die."

I punched the rock I had been holding as I imagined my mother's horror if she saw my blood red eyes. I whipped around, throwing the crumbled pieces of the rock at another larger stone as I thought of the repulsion she would feel when she recognized me for what I was. And I pulverized the rock when I realized that she would never have time to make that conclusion; I would have killed her before she could even scream.

Eleazar and Carlisle had backed out of the circle as I raged. I continued pummeling the rocks around me, careless of how long they had been resting in their spots, mindful only of the release this gave to me. I conjured up images before my eyes as I fought my own personal demons in that ring of stones, images of my loved ones and the fear they would experience if faced with the nightmare I had become. I thought of Edie and Anna, innocents that I had now welcomed into my dark world. What would I end up doing to them? Eleazar was right; it was dangerous and neglectful to bring them closer to me.

I stood, panting in the middle of the now demolished ring of stones, no less disgusted with myself but played out and ready to listen.

_Congratulations, Edward_, Eleazar said sarcastically. _These stones have probably been here longer than I have existed and you managed to destroy them in under ten minutes._

I glared at him, my brows furrowed and my nostrils flaring. I was still ready to fight and Eleazar knew that. He wisely stepped back and let Carlisle take over the conversation.

"Are you done destroying things for this evening?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

"Would you like to explain your outburst?" he asked more gently.

I shrugged and shook my head, unable to find the words to explain the sheer desperation that thoughts of my mother's fear brought to me.

"I guess you are entitled to your reasons and I won't press you on your motivations. I will just ask you to reconsider your estimation of yourself," he said. _And me._

"This isn't about you," I said, sinking to the ground with my head in my hands.

"But it is," he insisted. "I brought you to this life and I share your nature. How you condemn yourself applies to me as well."

"Are you suggesting that we aren't damned?"

"I'll reserve comment on that for now," he said, carefully covering his thoughts with memories that I did not understand: a pulpit, a wraithlike vampire that could only have been the one who changed him, and his father's cross. "Right now I want to address a key element of your vampire education. You seem to be under the mistaken impression that we cannot die."

"But you said . . ."

"I said that there are _few_ ways for us to die; I didn't say that it was impossible."

"But how do you kill someone made of stone?" I roared, throwing my hands up. "That's absurd."

"It isn't easy," he began. "But I am well versed in the ways _not_ to kill a vampire. After all, I tried many of them just after I was changed."

"You?" I gasped, standing up. "You tried to kill yourself?"

"Yes," he said, nodding unashamed. _I won't discuss my reasons now; but I will tell you about the ways that I tried and why they didn't work. It's important that you understand what your body is capable of withstanding . . . and what it is not._

"That sounds reasonable to me," I said.

We spent the next several hours in intense discussions about the many things that a vampire body could do, jumping from extreme heights and sinking to the bottom of lakes. Eleazar told me of the time, just after he arrived in Denali, when he and Carmen were caught in an avalanche. The snow poured around them and they rolled down the side of the mountain with it, digging themselves out unscathed after it was over. He said that it was much like being surrounded by cotton.

But when we got to the point in our discussion where we talked about the one way that vampires could be killed, both Carlisle and Eleazar became very business like.

"The Volturi have a very humane way of doing it," Eleazar began, ignoring Carlisle's snort of dissent. "But no matter how you imagine it, it is a very painful experience."

"What do you need to do?" I asked.

"Tear the head and limbs from the vampire in question and then set the remains on fire," Carlisle responded.

"Ah," I said, feeling my stomach drop as Carlisle spoke. "Why . . . the fire?"

"To prevent the pieces from reassembling," he said softly.

"And only another vampire can do this?" I asked.

"There are other supernatural beings in this world, Edward," Eleazar said, his mind wandering to stories that he heard from the Volturi. "But your largest threat comes from others of our kind. Not many vampires can contentedly live in peace together. There is often in-fighting among our kind."

"Is that why you wanted me to learn to fight?" I asked. "Are you concerned that we will come across others that are less friendly than we are?"

Looking around the destroyed rock circle, I wasn't entirely convinced that I fell into the category of "friendly vampire"; but I thought that they would understand my question nonetheless.

"It's always possible," Carlisle said. _I was concerned about your gift, Edward. Both Eleazar and I see that you have the potential to be very useful to a vampire with less than honorable intentions. We wanted you to be able to protect yourself should someone try to take you against your will._

I hadn't thought about that aspect to my gift, that I might be useful to someone.

"I wouldn't worry about it, son," Carlisle said softly, looking up to see if the term was still acceptable. It was. "Our fighting practice was mostly for fun; of course it is practical for you to learn, but I highly doubt you will have need of the training."

I nodded, but found that I was unable to get the vivid pictures I had seen in both of their minds out of my head: vampires being torn limb from limb and set on fire. It turned my stomach and made me uncomfortably nervous, rendering our conversation stagnant. It was just before dawn when we decided that we would hunt once more and then be on our way, all of us suddenly anxious for the more familiar surroundings of home.

* * *

We arrived at the house sopping wet. When we got to the porch, both Carlisle and Eleazar unexpectedly switched to thinking in Russian. Eleazar was thinking of Carmen again and I realized that Carlisle was cataloguing parts of the body. Carlisle took the oil skin bag from his back and began methodically getting dressed. I stood watching them with furrowed brows.

"Would either of you like to explain to me why you are suddenly so secretive?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

"Why would you think we're being secretive?" Carlisle asked, eyes wide and lips curled.

"Really, Edward, you should be less suspicious," Eleazar said. "You should get dressed."

"Why?" I asked. "Afraid I'll catch a chill?"

"Just get dressed, Edward," Carlisle said, frowning at me. _You know, you could be a bit more gracious about what is obviously meant to be a surprise._

I frowned back at him as a pulled my dry clothes out of the bag. "I dislike surprises," I stated.

"Luckily for you, you won't be subjected to very many," Carlisle said with a smile.

We dressed in silence on the porch and threw our wet clothes into a bin on the porch to be discarded. After the swim through the lake and our run through the pouring rain, there really wasn't much to salvage after all.

Carlisle opened the door and I immediately sensed a new smell in the house. I inhaled deeply, trying to place where the smell was coming from. I smelled . . . polished wood, steel, and . . . felt. I crinkled my brow trying to place these scents. Along with these scents, I also smelled paper and some type of fabric. I didn't understand the scents at all. Over everything there was a lingering smell of astringent that burned my nose with its potency. I puckered my nose at the strong smell and looked questioningly at Carlisle.

"Yes, I apologize for the heavy astringent," he said. "I felt that the initial pain of that smell would be better than the lingering odor of humans."

"My piano!" I exclaimed and shot up the steps to my piano room. With the excitement of the hunting trip, I had almost forgotten about the surprise that Carlisle had promised me. I could hear Carlisle coming up behind me, but heard Eleazar whisper to him that he would wait downstairs. When I arrived at the room however, I was confused. The old piano was in exactly the same condition that it had been before we left. I saw the chipped keys and the warped wood and I knew immediately that the piano hadn't been fixed.

"Was it beyond repair?" I asked, disappointed already.

"I didn't ask," Carlisle said, leaning against the wall.

"You . . . Didn't ask?"

"No," he said. "It wasn't necessary."

I looked at him, trying to understand. I thought that I had made it quite clear why this was important to me. My mother's love of the piano was one of the few memories that I had of her that I didn't need Carlisle to strengthen for me; I had remembered her playing all on my own. Learning to play was going to be my tribute to her. I hadn't explained it to him in so many words, but I thought I had explained enough about it to make my motivation clear.

"Come with me, Edward," Carlisle said.

He walked down the hallway of the second floor to the large room at the end of the hall. The door was closed as it had always been before when I came up here. I knew that it was the largest bedroom on the floor. To the best of my knowledge, this bedroom was empty of any of the props that Carlisle sometimes filled rooms with. Carlisle walked into the room, and once I was inside, he flicked on the lights. The sight that greeted my eyes was like nothing I had ever seen before.

The old, cracked flooring had been replaced with gleaming hardwood. The walls were freshly painted a deep burgundy. Sitting in the middle of the room was the largest piano that I had ever seen in my life. It was polished black and had delicate curves along the sides. Its three legs were slender, flowing seamlessly from the body of the piano. The lid was raised to half mast, exposing the carefully strung wires and intricately crafted inner workings. All of the pianos that I had ever seen before were uprights, stubby and dull in comparison to this amazing instrument.

"What kind of piano is it?" I whispered.

"It is a baby grand piano," Carlisle said. _Do you like it?_ he thought tentatively.

"I've never seen anything like it before," I said. "It's incredible."

"It was the best one that I could find that could be delivered when I needed it to be," he explained.

"You do realize that I can't play yet, right?"

"Well, naturally we can't bring an instructor here, but I've had the best instructional books delivered here along with all of the classics. I've also had several reams of blank staff paper delivered as well. In case you should ever want to write your own music."

"I . . ." What did I say to this? 'Thank you' seemed woefully inadequate for a gesture such as this. I couldn't imagine what something like this would have cost him. Not to mention the amount of work he must have put into getting this room together. "I don't know what to say."

"I want this to feel like home for you," he said. _When you first saw the other piano and remembered your mother playing for you, your face lit up and I saw traces of the boy that I used to know. You're still the same person, Edward. I need you to remember that. I wanted you to have this so that you could remember who you were._

"Thank you," I said. He began to walk out of the room to leave me alone with the piano, but I reached out my hand to stop him. "Carlisle?"

"Yes," he said.

"Would you show me your father's cross, please?"

The smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his mouth and lighting his eyes with excitement. I knew that he had been wanting to show me this for some time; he had even been thinking about it as he told me some of his story back in the stone circle. But he never felt comfortable asking to show me. I knew that he saw it as an intimate part of his past. For me to ask him about it, gave him permission to tell me the more personal details of his life that he had withheld. These details weren't relevant to my new life as a vampire; they were only relevant to my life with Carlisle.

Carlisle's study was located on the third floor of the house, in what should have been the attic. I had never been up to this floor of the house as it seemed to be his private area and I did not wish to intrude on his privacy any more than my gift already did. The room shocked me both in its size and its volume.

The attic covered the entire length and width of the house. A large desk sat in a dormer by one of the windows. The walls that weren't covered in shelves of books were adorned with some of the finest art that I had ever seen outside of a museum. Most looked to be originals and a few I even recognized. I had intended to allow Carlisle to show me around, but everything was so fascinating. I circled the study slowly and carefully, taking in everything that I saw. I noticed that Carlisle settled himself against his desk with his arms folded as I perused his most personal belongings.

_Ask me anything you like, Edward_, he thought as I gazed at an old oil painting of four men, two of whom I recognized. _My history is yours_.

"What are you and Aro doing in this oil painting?" I asked.

"Ah," he said, remembering his time with Volturi again. "Solimena was greatly inspired by them. He liked to paint them as gods. Aro gifted this painting to me when I left Volterra as a reminder of my friends there."

"You distrust them," I said, reading the thoughts behind his words. "Or rather, you distrust him."

"Aro enjoys the power that he holds over those in Volterra and immortals around the world," he said softly, shrugging his shoulders. "Perhaps I feel that he has grown complacent in his power, or too comfortable that he has no challengers."

I moved around the room until I stood before the large wooden cross that I had seen so often in his memory. It was larger than I had pictured it, seeing it now in reference to the wall. It took up nearly the whole portion of wall on which it rested.

"It once hung above my father's pulpit," he said, coming up behind me. "He carved it with his own hands. It took him years of laboring over the wood to hew it into its perfectly smooth surface, but it is the divots that his tools left in the wood that I find myself sliding my fingers over in my time of need."

I saw immediately the divots that he spoke of. The cross had been lacquered in a dark stain that still shone. I could picture the huge wooden cross hanging above the fiery preacher's head as he preached his sermon. It would inspire awe and fear into the sinful of the congregation. But I could also see the man behind the cross, an older version of Carlisle bent over the wood for hours at a time as he worked and shaped it into the visage that it was today. I hesitated before I touched it, silently asking permission as my fingers paused just above the surface of the cross. Carlisle nodded and I let my fingertips fall onto the cross, tracing the tool marks that an ordinary human would never see.

"Tell me its story," I said.

"It was carved in the early 1630s, before I was born. Father carved it himself when he was appointed vicar."

"Do you remember your father?" I asked.

"I remember his voice," he said softly. "It was his voice that led me to deny my nature to the point of starvation. His voice which rang in my head as I tried to kill this inhuman body. And his voice again when I finally found salvation in a herd of deer.

"Edward, I grew up in a time when fantasy wasn't a thing of superstition or ghost tales. Evil was all around us then and those who believed in God saw evil everywhere. My father believed that he was hunting and destroying evil when he hunted the 'vampires' of our town, but he never found any _real_ vampires. I know because the men and women that he murdered died easily with a stake to the chest. No vampire would have succumbed to something like a wooden stake.

"I tried to kill myself to assuage the guilt that came with knowing my father's views of creatures such as myself. The poor wretch who changed me disappeared back into the sewers after feeding on a couple of the townspeople who had accompanied me on our hunting trip that night. I may have seen him again, but I doubt I would have recognized him if I did; my human memories are very dim. My point is that I tried to kill myself out of an imposed guilt. Once I found this new lifestyle, I realized that God might still have a plan for me.

"You did the right thing by writing to your loved ones," Carlisle said firmly. I looked up at him, shocked that he brought up those letters now. I had been thinking about them ever since my outburst in the stone circle, but I never mentioned them again. "I know you don't think so now, but I believe that you will have a purpose in their lives someday and that keeping that bridge open is a key to salvaging your humanity."

"My humanity?" I asked. "How can you even talk of salvaging that which is lost to me completely?"

_Do you truly believe that you have lost all shreds of your humanity?_

"How can I not?"

"Edward, you are still the boy that I befriended this summer. Your exterior has changed, but you have the same drive and personality that you had before. You have the same soul."

"Do _you_ truly believe _that_?" I asked.

"I do," he said. "I wondered about it after I was changed, as I said. But my conscience stayed with me, helping me to overcome my urges until I could find a way of life that suited my conscience. If my humanity and soul were truly lost to me in the change, I wouldn't have been able to do what I did. But I did it, and now I am able to save lives every day of my existence. I save people who without me would have died."

"But you said yourself that human blood will almost always be a temptation to me," I said. "What if I slip?"

"I won't deny that we are dangerous creatures, Edward. I won't argue that our very nature puts us at odds with protecting human life. But I will argue that if you choose the gentler life that I have chosen, you are making a choice to be more human than other vampires. I believe that that choice redeems our souls."

"And if I were to accidentally kill a human?"

"Like any mortal sin, you would need to repent for your sin and make reparations," he said. "I don't believe that Eleazar is damned although he has the debt of thousands of lives weighing on him."

"Do you believe that someone like Aro is damned?"

He thought for a moment and then nodded solemnly.

"Yes, but only by his choice, not by his nature. If he were to make a different choice and repent, I believe that even he could be saved."

I shook my head unconvinced. I appreciated the distinctions that Carlisle was making; I just wasn't certain that I could reconcile the thought of God having a plan for someone such as myself.

_Regardless of whether you believe me to be right, don't cut ties with your cousin or your friend_.

"How did you know?" I asked. "I never said that the letters were troubling me."

"No," he said. "But you didn't have to. I could see it in your eyes as you fought the rocks on the island. You were fighting with yourself and what you had become, yes. But you were also fighting to save them."

I nodded.

_I know you, Edward_, he thought.

"I hope so," I said. I believed, as he did, that the piano would help me to remember more of my human memories and my humanity, but I certainly did not view it as some magic cure-all. I would need Carlisle's conviction and memories to help me remember myself.

I spent the rest of the day and long into the evening doggedly teaching myself the rudimentary basics of the piano. I found it so much easier to learn now that I was immortal. I had but to look at the manual once in order to memorize the notes on the staff as well as their placement on the keyboard. My graceful movements were helpful as well. When dark descended on the house, I sensed that Carlisle's thoughts were drawing closer to the piano room. I opened the book to the simplest version of "Ode to Joy" that I could find and began to play. It was slower than it should have been, but the notes were in the right place and it sounded very much like the song that I remembered. I was rewarded with Carlisle's pleasure at hearing me take so well to the music. I realized that as I played I felt very little like a vampire and knew then that this piano and I would be near constant companions.

_**A/N**: **And the angst creeps back in. lol. But, seriously, I was one angsty writer this week. This chapter did not want to get written. Anyway, I think we covered some pretty important ground here. Many of you had some questions about why Carlisle was so alternately interested in Edward and then distant while he was human. I think this chapter answered some of those questions. Also, we get our first look at Carlisle and Edward's disagreement about the question of a vampire's soul. I know that Carlisle's religious leanings were never handled very specifically in the Saga, but to my mind, Carlisle is a very spiritual individual. The spirituality of his youth has, of course, transformed with his new life but it is there nonetheless. Also, I need to thank Elise Shaw for the first of several times in this story. It was her story, No Longer Alone, that first gave me the idea that Carlisle would remember his father's voice most of all. I also want to send a huge shout out to BMSequestrian for pre-reading this chapter for me and Peanut1981 for putting up with my angsty self as I tried to write it. :)**_

**_And from talk of souls, we switch to smut. ;) I wrote a lovely little one-shot that some of you may or may not have read entitled An Edwardian Birthday Surprise for "The Very Sexy UnBirthday Challenge." It's rated M, so my younger readers will have to opt out. But, it's a lovely little lemon for those of us old enough to enjoy. I'd love it if you'd read and vote when starting April 4th. You can find it on my profile. Enjoy sexy Edward. :)_**

**_Please leave me some love for the chapter because reviews are like Edward playing piano in the dark. ;) ~Jen_**


	25. A Close Call

_**A/N: Important announcement at the end of this chapter. :)**_

* * *

Anna's letter arrived one week after we returned from the hunting trip on Halloween. Carlisle transferred delivery of our mail to a Post Office Box during my transformation so that there wouldn't be a rash of mail carrier disappearances in our area. As he was approaching the house after his last day at the hospital, I expected to hear sadness in mind mingled with disappointment at leaving his beloved hospital work. Instead, I heard excitement in his mind. I was playing the piano when I heard him coming and then heard Anna's name in his mind. I immediately rushed down to meet him.

He burst through the door with the letter in his hand.

_I knew she would write back to you_,he thought with a smile on his face.

"May I see what she wrote before you get too superior?"

He handed me the letter and I stared at it, completely terrified. My deciding moment was at hand. Would I get to keep this part of my human life or would it slip away right here? I found myself incapable of opening the envelope; I held it between my fingers, reading over and over the carefully addressed front in Anna's familiar script. I looked up at Carlisle.

"I can't . . ." I said.

_Edward_, Eleazar thought as he came up to my side. _You have gone this far. I might not agree with your choice, but you made the effort and reached out to her. Do not lose faith in yourself now._

I knew that his encouragement was hard won. He and Carlisle had several arguments over the last several days about my choice to keep in contact with my human friends. In the end, although it wasn't the choice that he would have made, Eleazar respected the decision that we had made and even thought that we could somehow handle it. He still felt it was an unnecessary risk, but he was more supportive of me than he had originally been.

His encouragement was all that I needed.

"If you don't mind . . ." I began and gestured upstairs. I rather thought that I would like to read this on my own so that I could process it without interference. I began walking without waiting for their answer. I thought my courage would be improved with solitude, at least in this instance. If Anna wrote to me that she didn't believe my lies and wanted nothing more to do with me, I knew I would be devastated.

In fact, it was for this reason that I diverted from my original course and headed to the old piano room instead of the new one. I didn't want to be anywhere near my baby grand if I read bad news. Heaven only knew what havoc I would wreak on the furniture around me if I didn't like what I read; I didn't want my piano or the room that Carlisle had built for me to be affected by my temper.

I felt the envelope, trying to determine the length of the letter by the thickness of its contents. No such luck. I sighed as I sat at the cramped desk. There was no point in waiting; time was not going to change the words on the page. I ripped open the letter and set it before me, comforted immediately by the greeting that she wrote at the top.

_25 October 1918_

_My dear friend,_

_You are very silly indeed if you think I'm going to just disappear into thin air, Edward Masen. How could you even think so little of me after everything we've been through? I won't say I believe everything you wrote, but I understand that you must have your reasons for being secretive. The promise of your continued friendship is enough for me. For now._

_I had prepared myself for the worst so many times, Edward. After Mr. Kelly took you and your mother to the hospital, I sat by the phone thinking that at any minute I would get the call that you were dead. I honestly didn't believe that you would make it through the night. And then to hear that you were able to go home with Dr. Cullen that very night? It's unbelievable. I'm going to want answers, Edward . . . when you're ready, of course, but the day when I demand answers will come. I should have gotten them that day at the hospital; I still don't know what came over me._

_I've thought about Edie and your concerns about her. First of all, I don't think you are giving her enough credit. She's a strong girl, Edward. But I will respect your decision to keep some of this from her. Perhaps you can ask her to send her letters to the P.O. Box and explain to her that they will be forwarded to your new address. It will probably be easier than fabricating a new address._

_Life here is much the same; Edie is back at school and very happy in her life with the Kellys. She and Tom have gotten quite close and I believe that he will ask Mr. Kelly for permission to court her publicly by the end of the year. They're good for each other, I think. She's changed so much since she came here and so much of that is because of you. I just wish you were here to see it all. She's even making an effort with me! I think she is more comfortable with me now that you aren't around, actually. She really cares about you, Edward, and I think she always thought I was a competitior for your friendship. She'd never say anything, but that is just the impression that I got from her._

_(I wish that I could . . .)_

_(Do you even realize . . .)**_

_I miss you. Please stay in touch._

_Yours,_

_Anna_

I was on my fourth pass through the letter when I heard Carlisle calling to me softly in my mind. I pointedly ignored him until I finished reading through one last time, trying to understand why Anna had crossed out those lines. It wasn't like Anna to be sloppy about her letters.

_I know you can hear me_, Carlisle thought more insistently. _What did she say?_

"She doesn't hate me," I said softly, knowing that he would hear me no matter where he was in the house.

I heard Eleazar sigh softly from somewhere downstairs and worry himself anew about what might happen to the young girl that he didn't even know. Carlisle, on the other hand, was completely ecstatic although his voice was level and betrayed little emotion. He had been downstairs with Eleazar but at my words, he flew up the stairs to stand behind me.

"Of course she doesn't," he said. "How could she hate you?"

"You don't know her very well," I said, chuckling. "She can be very stubborn and very opinionated."

"So I gathered," he mused. "Still, I doubt that Anna could ever hate you."

_For a very bright boy, your vision of yourself is really quite skewed, _he thought.

"Carlisle, really, you are not exactly unbiased when it comes to me," I reminded him.

"Be that as it may, Edward, I still see you more clearly than you see yourself at times. And Anna would never have deserted you."

"What makes you so sure?"

He pulled out a chair and sat down next to me. _May I?_ he asked gently as he took the letter from me and read over it quickly. He nodded his head, folded it, and looked up at me smiling.

"I am two hundred and seventy-eight years old. In that time, I came in contact with thousands of humans. None of them touched me the way that you did. You were a friend . . ." _the son that I always wanted_, he continued in his head. "I watched the attachments that you made in your human life, fascinated with the delicate web of ties that held you in that world: your friends, your family, your responsibilities. Anna's right," he said, waving the folded letter at me. "You were the reason for Edie's change and so many other things that you never even realized."

_How can you not know how much you mean to her?_ he asked.

"Meant . . ." I said, realizing that despite her promise of friendship, things would never be the same.

He waved the letter at me. _Her words say otherwise_.

"That's because she doesn't know the truth," I argued.

"Edward," he said, frowning at me. "She can never know. For her own safety, you can't tell her. But I think even if she knew, she would find a way to be your friend. Think about that for a while."

_You are at least as important to her as she is to you. Don't forget that._

He walked out of the room, tossing the letter at me as he went. I looked at it one last time before seeking out the comfort of my piano. I should be happy that Anna wished to remain my friend. For some reason though, Carlisle's words filled me with a sadness greater than anything I had ever felt. It was a sadness born of the knowledge that buried in the words of that letter was the promise of something I would never have.

* * *

The piano soothed me as it always did. Even though I couldn't remember my mother trying to teach me to play, I knew that I had been incapable of making anything resembling music. Now, it was so amazingly easy to dance my fingers over the delicate ivory keys and bring the keyboard to life, letting it sing. The joy that filled my dead heart when the music washed over me was indescribable. Knowing that I was creating that music with my own hands was even more satisfying.

I began with Mozart's _Die Irae_ from his Requiem in D minor. The majestic overtones of the descant soothed the ache in my chest that I couldn't explain and the driving bass notes of my right hand answered the excitement still playing at my mind from my success. I was still amazed at my ability to feel two completely different emotions at the same time with equal intensity. Only the piano could pull me out of the strange mood swings that plagued me without structural damage to the house or the surrounding forest.

I chuckled softly as I transitioned from the "Requiem" into a lighter selection from _The Magic Flute_, my mood rising considerably with the pace of the music. I remembered the passion that took me on my last run with Eleazar. He teased me as we ran about the overzealous nature of my running, hinting that Carlisle was not far off the mark when he compared me to a Labrador. His words hit home that night, making me think that with my mind reading skills and my running, I might never fit in anywhere. I uprooted a rather large maple sapling and threw it across the clearing where we were running, knocking a more fully grown tree off kilter. Eleazar stared at me, biting his tongue and thinking furiously in Spanish that he ought not to laugh and make me even more angry. The night ended in two good natured brawls between the two of us and a companionable truce.

I had been paying so much attention to the music and my memories that I nearly missed the stray thoughts that were entering my head. Music was both relaxing and absorbing for me; I was able to concentrate fully on the notes and the cadences, ignoring almost completely the unbidden thoughts that ran through my mind. Completely relaxed now, I allowed myself to listen to the thoughts floating up to me from my friends downstairs.

_Hearing him play is heavenly_, Carlisle was thinking, happy in the knowledge that he had brought me happiness. He was reading a Russian volume on the uses of local anesthetics for small procedures.

Eleazar was thinking in Spanish, longing for his home and his mate. I knew that he was planning to ask Carlisle and me to visit him, but he was trying to decide how long we would have to wait before we could travel to Denali. I smiled as he thought about spending the holidays with us, wondering if he would decide to ask us and if Carlisle would agree. It would be good to know that we would see Eleazar again so soon. I knew that he would not stay much longer with us. It was beginning to be very painful for him to be away from Carmen.

_Dr. Carlisle Cullen_, a new voice said in my mind. It came so suddenly and abruptly that I banged the keys unceremoniously in my surprise. _Why I couldn't just leave this little package at the post office for him to pick up at the PO Box is beyond me. He must be some important man to need a package hand delivered_.

"Carlisle!" I roared.

Both of them flew up the steps and stared at me wild-eyed.

"A human!" I gasped. "Coming here. Now. He has a package for you. Go, Carlisle!"

He flew out the door and down the steps. I heard the door slam behind him as he ran. Eleazar crouched and readied himself in case I had not caught the voice soon enough. I was staring at Eleazar, but I was not seeing him. Instead, I was looking through the human's eyes, determining how close he was to our house.

A grouping of pines, their boughs bent low to the ground with heavy sap came into his view. I knew those pines. They were about three quarters of a mile away. I closed my eyes, focusing all of my energy on reading the man's mind. I had long since stopped breathing, fear driving me even more than instinct. I knew that if I breathed in deeply, I would be able to smell him. And I knew that if I smelled him, it would be over. But if I could avoid breathing, I might avoid slipping into my hunting mode. If I could avoid thoughts of hunting, I might avoid killing the man. I fought my nature with every bit of strength that I possessed, willing Carlisle to hurry.

Carlisle slowed as he approached the human, wary of alerting him to our differences. Carlisle was strolling now, bending over to pick up branches and whistling. He was feigning a relaxed walk in the woods so that he could inadvertently bump into the mail carrier.

I knew the instant that the mail carrier suspected he wasn't alone in the woods. He heard a branch snap; Carlisle had done it intentionally to alert the human that he was close. He knew that the man would be more frightened if he had appeared without any sound, so he bent over and snapped a branch between his fingers in warning. The noise sent shivers up the man's spine and sent his heart racing.

_Need to get myself under control_, the man was thinking. _It's the middle of the day. Stories about these woods are fool-hardy anyway_.

"Stories about these woods?" I whispered to myself.

"What?" Eleazar asked.

"Shh," I quieted him, holding up my hand. I needed to concentrate. I filed the comment away for later.

The man's mind was in a snarl, wavering between fear of the unknown and anger at his own fear. He was afraid that he might run into some children out in the woods for some mischief. He never even guessed at the true danger that was lurking in these woods.

When he saw Carlisle his mind went blank and cold fear enveloped him for a blinding second. Every natural impulse in him was screaming at him to turn and run. I saw Carlisle through his eyes, immortally perfect and horrifically beautiful. His beauty was terrible and wonderful all at once, a thing to be both feared and adored. And then Carlisle smiled. It was a small smile in comparison to the ones that he so frequently graced me with; none of his teeth showed and it barely crinkled the skin under his cheeks. But it warmed his eyes and worked like a shot of nitrous oxide on the unsuspecting mail carrier. Immediately his heart rate slowed, the adrenaline slowed, and his mind seemed to thaw. Suddenly he was telling himself that all of his original impressions were ridiculous and that he needed to stop being so fanciful.

"He's charming him," I said. Eleazar nodded.

"_Hello there," _Carlisle called, his voice warm and welcoming. _"We don't see many visitors in this area. Can I help you?"_

"_Gosh, sir, I am glad I ran into you. I'm looking for a house out here and I'm afraid I might never find it. Do you know a Dr. Carlisle Cullen?"_

"_Indeed I do,"_ Carlisle said laughing. _"I'm Dr. Cullen. How may I help you?"_

The man was completely amazed at his good luck and reached into his bag to pull out the package.

"_I have a package for you, Dr. Cullen," _he said, laughing in his good fortune. _"I just need to see your identification and I can leave it with you."_

"_Of course,"_ Carlisle said without missing a beat. _"This is my medical identification card; it never leaves my person. Will it suffice?"_

"_Certainly," _the man said, rubbing his hands together after handing the card back to Carlisle. He looked Carlisle up and down again, gaping at him openly for the first time and I sorted through his thoughts trying to understand what had caught the man's attention. _The man must be insane! It's near freezing and he's walking in the woods in nothing more than his shirtsleeves._

"Damn," I swore quietly.

"What's wrong?" Eleazar asked.

"He forgot to put on a jacket. The man is suspicious."

"Carlisle will handle it," Eleazar said. "Just watch."

"_Aren't you mighty cold, Dr. Cullen?"_ the man asked warily as he handed Carlisle the package. Carlisle took it from him, carefully keeping his fingers away from the man's hand.

"_No,"_ he said softly. _"My family resided for most of my childhood in the Aleutian Islands. This weather is little more than chilly to me."_

The man looked at him skeptically as Carlisle smiled back at him, putting one hand in his trouser pocket and the other holding the package casually.

"_Still,"_ the man cautioned. _"You ought to be covered up. You'll take a chill and end up with the flu. And you a doctor!"_

Carlisle laughed musically and smiled back at him. _"Chills don't give you the flu; germs do that. As long as I wash my hands I'll be safe from the flu, I promise."_

The man's mind cleared for a moment and I watched first hand the process of "distracting" an unsuspecting human. It was fascinating. When the fog cleared, he couldn't remember why he was even concerned about the doctor's lack of a jacket.

"_Would you mind very much if I walked back with you to your house, Dr. Cullen?"_ the man asked and I stiffened in fear. _"It's been a long walk through these woods and I'd sure appreciate a drink."_

_Get out of the house . . . NOW!_ Carlisle nearly screamed at me; I was up and off of the piano bench before he said "now."

"Let's go," I said through my teeth, using up the last of my breath.

Eleazar didn't blink; he took me to the back of the house on the second story, threw open the window and jumped out. Without hesitation, I followed him, continuing to clamp my mouth closed and hold my breath. Carlisle was doing his best to hold the man at bay, explaining that his nephew was sick in bed and he couldn't offer the man entrance to the house. The mail carrier proved to be quite dense indeed, nodding his agreement, but continuing to walk towards the house. He was intent on seeing the enigmatic doctor's house. Carlisle's talk of a sick nephew only fueled his curiosity.

Carlisle must have been holding his breath throughout most of his conversation; I only caught brief flashes of fire from him as he smelled the man. Still, those brief flashes were enough to make my throat flame. Only the mere fact that I was not smelling it for myself kept me by Eleazar's side as we ran.

We were running blindingly fast away from the house. We reached the clearing in which Eleazar had taught me to climb trees in under two minutes.

"You can breathe now," Eleazar said. "What happened?"

I gulped in the cool air, allowing it to fill my lungs with air and my senses with the smells around me. There was no trace of the burning human scent around us.

"The man wanted to come back to the house for a glass of water. He was intent on seeing the remote house that the doctor lived in. He was insanely curious and wasn't going to go away," I explained. "I can't hear Carlisle anymore."

"He'll come for us when he gets rid of the human," Eleazar said and I flinched, thinking of how easily I would have 'gotten rid' of the human.

_Do not berate yourself, Edward_, he thought kindly. _What you did was incredibly impressive. If it had not been for your gift, it might have been too late to save that human. You should be very proud of yourself and your gift._

"I'm not berating myself," I said, sighing. "I just can't help thinking about what might have happened."

"Stop," he said firmly. "It did not happen and that is in large part because of you. Be pleased at what you have accomplished and do not worry about the possibility of what might have been."

I nodded and bent to pick up a pine cone lying on the ground. With the tip of my thumb, I brushed the rough ridges of the cone, reducing them dust. I imagined what would happen if I applied pressure like that to a human's spine. I threw the partially destroyed cone across the clearing and looked at Eleazar. I was deadly and dangerous but my gift had saved that man from my arsenal of weapons. Perhaps Eleazar had been right all along; perhaps my gift was a blessing instead of a curse.

Eleazar and I spent the hour that it took Carlisle to get rid of the mail carrier leaping between trees and engaging in contests to see who could throw pine cones farther. Carlisle found us engaged in the latter contest and joined us for the remainder, barely able to contain his pride in me. It was embarrassing to hear him think of me in such a manner, with such fatherly pride and devotion. But every time I opened my mouth to try to divert him, he would silence me with a look and a warning thought, telling me to allow him these moments of pride. He knew that he was throwing guilt in my face when he reminded me how long he had waited to feel pride such as this for another being. But he was also feeling selfish and wanted to savor the sweet victory of today. I couldn't begrudge him that.

On the way back to the house, I remembered the one question that I needed to ask Carlisle about this afternoon's adventure.

"Carlisle," I began. "Do you know anything about stories related to these woods?"

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"The kind that would have given our postal carrier friend reason to fear what might be waiting for him in the woods," I said.

"Oh," he said, stopping and rubbing his chin. "A couple of the nurses at the hospital used to talk about their husbands' hunting trips, but nothing specifically about these woods. I would guess, however, that it has to do with me."

"How so?" I asked.

"Edward, the humans make themselves believe a lot of things, but the truth is always there if they want to find it. Think about it. Hunters will have found my kills from time to time, no matter how careful I am to cover them. Or what if someone saw me running without my knowing it? Caught a glimpse of me as I streaked through the forest? Most wouldn't believe it, but it might plant a seed of worry in the most superstitious members of the community. Ours is a tenuous existence, Edward, and if the charade becomes too difficult to uphold or the people get too suspicious, that is when it is time to move on."

"Well, then I guess that means that I will be quite useful in the future when I can get closer to people. I'll be able to tell you exactly what they suspect about us and when it is getting too dangerous."

Carlisle winked at me conspiratorially.

"Clearly that is why I changed you," he said, "for the convenience of your early warning system."

Instead of responding to his ribbing, I opted for the more physical option and tackled him without ceremony. As a vampire, I found that physical exertion was a sure cure for tension and stress. Our quick tussle before arriving at the house was the perfect ending to a very stressful day.

* * *

Two days later, we were standing around the doorway wishing Eleazar a safe trip back to Denali. It was not as emotional as I had imagined it might be, but I was sorry to see him go. He had become a trusted friend and ally. There were many things that I was more comfortable discussing with him than I was with Carlisle. Although Carlisle never passed judgment on me, I hated to even think about disappointing him. I didn't worry as much with Eleazar. I knew that he expected my curiosity and was used to the plethora of questions a newborn could think of. He was patient and kind; I liked him very much. But I also knew something that Carlisle did not know. Eleazar had plans for us to see him in the near future.

"Aren't you going to ask Carlisle before you leave?" I asked him with a smirk.

"You can be quite annoying when you want to be, Edward," he chided.

I banged his shoulder in jest. "You didn't really think that you could hide it from me? You didn't even try. You thought about it in Spanish!"

"But I did not expect you to bring it up," he growled.

"What are you both talking about?" Carlisle asked.

"I want you and Edward to come to Denali for the holidays," Eleazar said. "It will do Edward good to meet others of our kind; after your wire, the sisters and Carmen cannot wait to meet him. It would be good to celebrate . . . as a family."

Carlisle smiled widely. _Do you want to do this?_ he asked me.

I nodded my agreement immediately. I was anxious to meet the vampires that I knew only through Carlisle's and Eleazar's memories.

"It will, of course, depend on his ability to travel," Carlisle said hesitantly.

"You can make most of the trip without ever crossing near human territories," he said. "It will mean some swimming and a longer route, but it is certainly possible."

"We will plan to make the journey," Carlisle agreed. "But we will wire if there is any change in our plans."

"Of course, of course," Eleazar said, turning and winking at me. He was as anxious as I was for this trip to become a reality. There were many things that he wished to show me near his home. I was flattered that his opinion of me had changed so entirely from his original hesitation at letting his mate near me.

"I must be off," Eleazar said. "You will both be well, of that I am sure. And I will see you next month."

He turned and was off, eager to return to his home and his family. We closed the door and I was left to wonder what a vampire family might be like. What traditional roles were filled and what new ones were created? It was a fascinating thought.

"Why didn't you join Eleazar's family when you met them?" I asked Carlisle suddenly.

He reeled for a second or two, digesting the question that I had thrown at him. I back-peddled immediately, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He was thinking of his time with Eleazar's family and the companionship that he had given up. It was obvious to me that leaving was painful for him. I shouldn't have brought it up at all.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That was rude . . ."

"No," he said. "It was just unexpected. It is a fair question. I came across Eleazar's coven not long after I arrived in the new world. I had been studying for a long while and was ready to practice medicine. I stayed with them for several months, enjoying their company and being with others who shared my lifestyle. But I couldn't deny the fact that I wished to practice medicine. It was what I felt called to do with this life. I left them about six months after I found them in order to find a place were I might be able to practice medicine."

"Where they live is very remote then?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I wouldn't have been able to practice medicine on the local tribal people who live near where Eleazar and his family have settled."

"Why?"

"The native people are more attuned to us than the rest of the humans. They are more superstitious and intuitive about us; they would never trust me as a doctor."

As he remembered leaving them, I felt the pain of separation sting him again. I felt the loneliness of his choice envelope him.

"I'm sorry that you had to choose between a family and the thing that you loved most," I said. "I'm making you choose again."

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"You've given up your work at the hospital to be with me," I said. "You've given up what you loved to . . ."

"I haven't given it up, Edward," he said softly. "I've taken a sabbatical. When you are past your newborn year and more comfortable without my guidance, I will go back to doing what I am called to do."

I understood that; I still felt horribly guilty for pulling him away from something that meant so much to him.

_Being a doctor isn't the best thing that I can do with my life_, he thought. His words and the tone of his thoughts reminded me of what Eleazar said about Carmen. _Something tells me that the family we are creating here is an even greater calling for me than medicine._

_**** The lines in parentheses are supposed to be in strike-through script. It didn't come through in Doc. Manager. I apologize for any confusion for those who read the original version. When I originally uploaded, it looked fine, but it didn't save. :)**_

_**A/N: So, what did you think of Anna's letter? And what about Edward's close call? It needed to happen. I know many of you have wondered when he's going to "slip." According to canon, Edward never kills "and innocent" which means to me that he doesn't kill anyone until he goes out as a vigilante. So there isn't going to be any slip-ups in this part of the story. But, the human casualties will come.**_

**_And for the big announcement: Edward's story has been nominated for three Faithful Shipper Awards, including Best Canon Story. *squeal* ahem. Sorry about that. I am up against some VERY heavy competition with some very big name fics. I would take it as a personal accomplishment just to make it to the next round, in which the top five fics in each category will move on. For the record, even though Edward's story is nominated in the Best AH Story, I don't think that it ought to have been. This isn't an AH fiction since there are lots of vampires in it. ;) The other two categories are legit though, so if you feel compelled to do so, please visit my profile page and go to the link for the Faithful Shipper webiste to vote. I greatly appreciate all of the support that you have given me. You all rock my world. Leave a review please, because reviews are like watching Edward and Carlisle wrestle. YUM! ;) ~Jen_**


	26. Family Matters

The first couple of days that Carlisle was home from work were the worst for him. He paced often and read constantly. It was during that time that we began playing chess. It was a very unique experience and good exercise for my gift; however, I was fairly sure that it was not fun for Carlisle. About a week after Eleazar left, we fell into a pattern of reading, playing chess, and hunting.

_If I take his pawn with my bishop, I'll leave the queen exposed . . . But I can easily take his rook with my knight_. Carlisle was carefully thinking through each of the moves that he could make, knowing full well that I was playing out the board in my head each time that he did.

"Then I'll just take both of your pawns and put you in check," I said.

"Why do we even have the board out if you're just going to beat me in my head?"

"For show, naturally," I said, laughing. "You really don't have any moves left that won't put you in check."

_I think you're wrong . . . I'll move the queen . . ._

He moved with blinding speed, whipping the queen to the other side of the board and removing my knight in the process. It was a good move, but I would have him in checkmate in under five moves. I smiled at him as I slowly moved my pawn, taking none of his pieces. He shook his head and knocked over his king.

_I might not be able to read your mind, but I always know when you have me beat_.

"So I've been wondering . . ." I said, trailing off.

_Yes?_ he asked.

"What was in the package?" I asked. "You never told me and I never saw anything in your thoughts . . ."

"You should have asked me sooner!" he exclaimed, jumping up and flashing over to the mantle. "I had forgotten all about the package."

"Carlisle, you're a vampire. How exactly do you forget something?" "Well, perhaps 'forget' is the wrong word," he said considering. "I got . . . distracted."

I rolled my eyes at him, remembering our discussion about Anna and his 'distraction' techniques.

"You shouldn't roll your eyes, Edward," he said. "You should know already how easily our kind can be distracted. Think of yourself and your emotions."

"But I'm a newborn," I argued. "Doesn't that go away eventually?"

"You'll find things get easier to control, but you will always be easily distracted. It's just part of our nature."

He walked over to me and set the package in front of me. I looked up at him, confused. I knew from the postman's thoughts that the package was for Carlisle; why was he handing it to me?

"You want me to open it?" I asked.

"It's for you," he said. _Look at the address._

It was addressed to Carlisle, but underneath I saw my name: "For Edward Anthony Masen, in the care of his uncle, Dr. Carlisle Cullen." I looked up at him, questioning what this could mean. _You'll have to open it to find out. I know nothing, _he thought.

I ripped open the brown paper, anxious to get at the box inside. Once through the paper, I opened the box and dumped the contents on the table in front of me. What was inside took my breath away. The package was from my cousin.

The first thing that caught my eye was a formal portrait of Edie and me. We couldn't have been more than three or four, and I had no recollection of the picture being taken. Edie had a large bow in her hair and a wide-eyed expression of fear as she stared into the camera. I was wearing a light colored jumper with nautical embellishments. Neither of us were smiling as we stood next to each other in the yard, my hand on her shoulder. I flipped the photo over and my breath hitched in my throat. Edie had written on the back: _Edward, so many missed opportunities at friendship. This was the oldest photo I could find of us. I wanted you to have it. ~Edie_

My hands did not shake anymore; vampire control allowed me to hide emotion rather effectively. Still, I found myself less able to control the speed with which I was moving. My hand blurred past me as I handed the picture to Carlisle. Next out of the box was a much newer photo, clearly recently taken. It was Edie and a boy who looked vaguely familiar to me, but whose face I couldn't place. It wasn't me, that was the only thing I was sure of. I turned it over and saw Edie's script on the back. I could almost feel her happiness as she wrote it: _I can't thank you enough for the gift of Tom. He has been such a blessing to me in this time of loss. ~Edie_

I looked back at the photo and sure enough I could see the truth in the words that she had written. Edie sat in a chair and Tom was standing just behind her. His hand was resting on her shoulder and I noticed the way her head tilted slightly, leaning towards him. Her face was so much older in this picture, but it was so clearly still Edie. And yet, it was an Edie transformed. Her lips were turned up in a gentle smile and there was a touch of color in her cheeks which revealed her happiness even through the black and white of the photograph. I smiled as I looked at them together. My old friend Tom. How could I have forgotten him so easily?

"She's in love with him," I said as I handed Carlisle this picture.

"Did she say so?" he asked.

"She didn't have to," I replied, nodding to the picture and then turning back to the contents of the box.

A soft moan escaped my lips as I held the delicate newspaper clipping in my hand. It was my mother's death notice clipped carefully from the _Sun_. It was so short, just three sentences, summing up a life of dedication and love that few could rival. _Elizabeth Masen, 38, wife, mother, friend. Preceded in death by her husband, Edward Sr., and survived by her son, Edward Anthony. Taken by the flu; viewing and funeral on October 20__th__._ How could that be all they had to say about her? Wasn't her life so much more than this?

With a shuddering sigh I handed the clipping to Carlisle. _I hadn't wanted you to see this yet_, he thought.

"Why?" I said hoarsely. "I knew that she was gone."

_Still,_ he thought_, this is more than you needed right now_.

"I'm glad to have it," I said.

He was silent as I took out the last item before Edie's letter. It was the saint's card that the Kellys had printed up commemorating my mother's funeral. It was a new tradition, one that I didn't think we did for Father's funeral, but a lovely gesture nonetheless. It was a beautiful line drawing of Mary, holding her beloved son. On the back was a simple scripture verse. I stared at this the longest, imagining my mother holding me as a baby.

Carlisle took it from me as I began to unfold Edie's letter. Involuntarily, I wiped the non-existent tears from my cheeks. Carlisle was right when he told me that although I could not weep anymore, the pain of grief was all the more acute. I couldn't imagine feeling this grief as a human; it would have literally broken my heart.

_25 October 1918_

_My dear cousin,_

_I am so pleased to hear that you are progressing well under the care of Dr. Cullen. We were all certain that you would find the same fate as your father and mother; it is indeed a miracle that you will make a full recovery in due time._

_There seems so many things to tell you and so little time to tell you. Mama Kelly (that is what she has asked me to call her and I thrill to do so . . . Edward, I have never felt so loved and cherished) tells me that I must post this package to you before the noon mail call in order to ensure that it reaches you before you are to leave. Forgive me if this is rushed._

_My life here is so pleasant. We have settled into the normal routines of family and everyone has accepted me as a member of the family. I no longer feel as though I am a guest in this house; I have my share of chores and it is a joy to help out. I feel wanted and appreciated. It is such a wonderful feeling, Edward. I imagine it is quite the way you felt every day of your life. I'm sorry; that was insensitive knowing your loss. However, I can but hope that the life you are beginning with Dr. Cullen will be as happy as my life has become._

_The biggest change in my life has been Tom. As I wrote on our photo (taken only three days ago), he has helped me so much through this time of loss. He has asked Mr. Kelly's permission to court me. Before agreeing, Mama and Papa sat me down and asked what __I wanted__. Can you imagine my surprise? I was thrilled to be able to tell them that I did, indeed, wish to court him. Because of the flu we haven't been able to go out courting traditionally, but he has had two visits in our sitting room with me and he is ever a gentleman. But, Edward, how he makes me laugh! It's a wonderful feeling. I feel so happy and yet so guilty. Should I be this happy with all of the loss our family has gone through?_

_Edward, I do so hope that we can continue our correspondence. Please let me know where I can write to you and I will do so as often as I can. I know that I wasn't always the best friend to you, but you, more than anyone, are responsible for giving me the opportunity at this happiness. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I ever would have allowed myself this happiness._

_Your cousin and friend,_

_Edie_

I handed the letter, my hands now shaking, to Carlisle.

_You would like me to read this?_

"Of course," I said. "It's hardly fair for me to have secrets from you when you will never have any from me. Besides, this is something that I would like to share."

He read it over quickly, smiling sadly as he read it. His hand drifted to my shoulder, squeezing slightly. _This must be very difficult for you to read_.

"Yes," I said. "And no. In many ways, it's freeing to know that she has a happy life set out for her and that I had a small hand in that."

"But . . ." he said, gripping my shoulder harder.

"But I wish that I could be there to see her now," I said, a lump growing in my throat. "The Edie who wrote this letter isn't the Edie that I knew before. She's _happy_. I would have liked to be there to watch her blossom while she courts Tom, to see her walk down the aisle. It's strange to be living this existence and yet, for all tangible purposes, be dead to the people I love."

_But you aren't dead to them, Edward_, he thought, coming around and sitting in front of me so that his golden eyes bored through me. _Did you not read this letter and Anna's? You are so very much a part of their lives still._

"But I'm unable to _be there_ for them," I mumbled.

_Perhaps . . . In time._

It was an idle thought, one that neither of us could dwell on. That time was far off. Any thoughts of visiting them now were nothing more than fancies. I needed to focus on the present. Thinking about what might happen someday down the road wouldn't help me any now.

"The sun will be going down shortly," he said. "Do you want to hunt tonight?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm going to play until we need to leave."

He nodded, smiling. I knew that it made him happy every time that I sat down to the piano. He told me just after Eleazar left that he could sense me relaxing from the moment that I sat down at the piano. It was very relaxing for me to play, but there was sadness as well, especially today.

Mother was foremost in my mind as I sat down to play. It didn't surprise me that the first song I chose was _Clair de Lune_; it reminded me so much of her. The notes were familiar now that I had played the song several times, and I closed my eyes, letting the melody wash over me and fill with me hazy memories. When I was playing, I could almost see her clearly. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine that she was playing this for me. The graceful notes rang through the room and bounced off the walls until the music was all I knew. Carlisle's thoughts were lost in the cascading notes and I was alone again.

* * *

About two hours later, Carlisle surprised me. That, in itself, was shocking. I knew, of course, that when I concentrated on the music, nothing touched me. The far away buzz of our distant neighbors, always in the background, faded away almost as soon as my fingers caressed the keys. When my mind focused completely on the music, even Carlisle's familiar voice slipped away from me for a time and I was alone in my head with the music. But to know that I could be so wrapped up in my music that I would miss his arrival in the music room was stunning to me.

"How long have you been sitting there?" I asked when I saw him sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room.

"For the last hour," he said. _I thought you knew_.

"No," I said, running my fingers through hair, distracted.

_Interesting,_ he said. "Is that why you like it so much?"

"I like it for a variety of reasons," I said. "Not the least of which is that it offers my mind some peace."

"Can you tell me how it happens?"

"I can't explain it," I said, shrugging. "The music is soothing, of course, and it helps me to remember things, but there's more. When I really concentrate on the music, all of the noise in my head goes away. I don't hear the buzz of noise from neighbors' thoughts or even your thoughts. It's just me, my thoughts, and the music. It's very peaceful."

"I can imagine," he said. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I enjoy watching you play."

"I don't mind," I said.

"Are you ready to hunt?" he asked. "It's long past dark."

"Alright," I said. "Let's go."

Once we finished hunting, I was able to think more clearly about the package and Edie's letter. I wanted so badly to be part of her life, but it wasn't safe now. I could correspond with her, but I wouldn't be able to think about interacting with her for a long time. The thought that Carlisle would be my only companion for the next several years was discouraging. He had much to teach me, but I balked at the idea that I'd never get to talk with _other_ people. Carlisle could tell I was distracted as we ran through the forest preserve.

_Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or just make me guess?_

"I was thinking about Denali," I said, sighing. We hadn't spoken about the trip to Denali since Eleazar left. I knew that he had been thinking about it a lot, but hadn't brought it up to me at all.

He sighed. "I don't know if you're ready for a trip of that length."

"We have three more weeks before we have to leave,' I argued. "And we know that I can detect problems early. It doesn't have to be dangerous . . ."

_Is it very important to you?_

I nodded slowly, trying to form my reasons in my head before answering him.

"I saw Eleazar's thoughts when he invited us to join his family for the holidays," I said carefully. "He envisioned a possibility for an . . . extended family of sorts."

Carlisle frowned. _I can't give up practicing medicine, Edward_.

"I know," I said. "And I would never ask that of you. But maybe accepting this invitation will show them that we wish to be on good terms with them."

"I already am on good terms with them," he said.

"But I'm not," I said softly.

_Ah,_ he thought. _You want to meet your cousins._

I shot him a sharp look and stopped running. After today's letter and the heartache that it caused, assigning more arbitrary relationships in my new life was last on my list. However, the idea that my family would _forever_ consist of just Carlisle and myself was depressing.

"Please understand," I said, fighting for control as my emotions were still so close to the surface. "I realize that we are building a . . . family here. I'm thankful to have that opportunity. But its very difficult for me to slip into these assumed roles, replacing the family that I knew with vampires."

"No one is asking you to replace your family," he said.

"I know that it is just a name, but it seems as though I'm seeking to replace Edie when I think of Eleazar's family as 'cousins'."

We both knew that I wasn't objecting to the word 'cousins'. Instead of dancing around the issue, Carlisle decided to face it head on tonight. He turned and leaned his back against a tree.

"I don't want to replace your father, Edward," he said so softly that his voice mingled with the wind. Were it not for my vampire hearing, I wouldn't have heard his voice or all of the pain that was in it. "I don't wish you to forget your human family; quite the opposite, actually. I want to help you remember them so that they will be a part of you. Please don't misunderstand my references to family as me trying to coerce you into calling me father."

"I think I'd know if that was your intention," I said softly.

"Indeed," he said. "But it's important to me that you hear me say it as well. Your friendship is enough for me, Edward."

"Thank you," I said.

"If visiting with the Denali clan is important to you, then we will make the journey. Perhaps we can plan on an extended visit," he said, considering. "It would be helpful living in an area so under-populated."

"Yes," I said. "Less chance of stray postal workers."

He chucked and began running again.

_I was very proud of you,_ he thought when I caught up to him. _I don't know that I ever told you that_.

"You thought it pretty clearly," I said.

"You sound disappointed," he said.

"If it wasn't for my lack of control, we wouldn't have had to go through all of that trouble," I said.

_If it wasn't for your gift, that man would likely be dead_, he thought.

"But that's just it," I said. "You can spin it whatever way you want, but if I wasn't a blood-thirsty vampire, none of these precautions would be necessary."

"Do you wish I hadn't changed you?" he asked. Although we had gone back and forth about why I was changed and how, he had never come right out and asked me like this.

"Honestly?" I asked, hesitantly.

_Of course,_ he thought.

"Yes." The word hung between us and I knew immediately that it had cut him to the core. "And no. It isn't a simple, clear-cut answer, Carlisle."

_I can understand that_, he thought. _I still struggle with "what ifs" and I am nearly 300 years old_.

"I realize that it's counterproductive for me to focus on what might have been if I were still human. I also realize that it is likely I'd be moldering in the family crypt if I were still human. But at every turn, it seems I'm hit with the ways that life would be different if I weren't a vampire."

We had reached the house when he turned to me, his eyes full of an ancient sadness that I could only grasp at.

_Can you find nothing in this life worth being thankful for?_ His internal voice was pleading, begging me to see the way that life could be.

"Of course," I said. "It's just that it is remarkably difficult to look past the hazy memories that keep slipping away from me. Give me time?"

"We have an eternity," he said with the barest hint of a smile.

"I doubt it will take me that long," I said, chuckling. "I just need to find some balance in this life."

"Do you think that the trip to Denali will help that?"

"It can't hurt," I said, shrugging. "Eleazar seemed like a good person. I'd like to see how his family lives, the way they interact. It might give me the perspective I need to get past this grief."

_Shall we look at some maps?_ he asked. _We're going to need to plan our route._

I smiled and we went up to the study, planning our route carefully up through the northernmost parts of Canada in into Alaska. Carlisle estimated that it would take us nearly a full week since we would have to go slower in order to avoid the humans. I found myself getting more excited with every moment that we planned. I had never been further from Chicago than Pennsylvania. This was going to be an adventure. As we planned, I could tell that Carlisle was beginning to see the value in this trip as well. He called to send a wire to Eleazar, letting him know that we would be leaving in just three weeks to join them for the holidays, smiling the whole time.

_**A/N: Sorry that this chapter is slightly shorter than usual. This is the transition that we needed in order to get us to traveling time. I need to send a big thank you out to Emerald Star for gently reminding me about the package from the last chapter. I totally forgot about it! I hope you like what the post man brought. I thought it was important for Edie to have a say here before our great Denali journey.**_

**_A reminder . . . The Faithful Shipper Nominations close on Saturday, the 17th. If you haven't yet voted, may I encourage you to do so? Pretty please? :) Remember there are a lot of other great fics out there that are nominated, so look carefully before you vote. Also, The Very Sexy Unbirthday Contest is open for voting and I have a submission in that contest as well. If you'd like to take a look at the stories in the contest and vote for your favorite, the link is on my profile page._**

**_Also, I've been trying to sumit teasers of my chapters to the Fictionators for Teaser Monday. So, if you are anxious for the next chapter, hop over to the Fictionator's blog on Monday mornings and you'll get a 500 word look into the next chapter. I've also been submitting Pic Teases of the chapter as well. If you're following me on Twitter, you'll get links for both of those blogs. If you're not following me, seriously, you're missing out. LOL Ok, leave me a review because reviews soothe me like Edward's piano playing. (I know this is like the third time I've used the piano image, but piano playing Edward is the sexiest in my opinion.) ;) ~Jen_**


	27. The Dangers of Immortal Perfection

**_A/N: Another important announcement at the end._**

A little less than two weeks after Eleazar left, Carlisle and I were reading when he began thinking about the mail. He looked over at me nervously and then back at his book. Honestly, I hadn't really considered the mail piling up in the PO Box. But it was now on Carlisle's mind and he was getting concerned that someone from the postal office might come to the house if we were to let it accumulate.

"You can't really think this is a good idea," I said.

"It would take me barely half an hour," he said quickly. "And we already know that you can tell in advance whether anyone is coming."

"Just what do you want me to do if I hear someone?" I asked.

_You could run into the woods . . . _he thought.

"And if I didn't?" I said quietly. "If I stayed and I killed someone . . . Could you live with that?"

"First and foremost, I don't believe there is much risk of someone coming out here," he said slowly, deliberately. "But more importantly, I don't believe that you would stay to kill someone. If I thought that, I wouldn't consider leaving you alone."

"How can you have this much faith in me? I'm barely a month old! You've said yourself that it took you years to perfect your control; why do you think I'm stronger than you?"

_Because you are at least as strong as me,_ he thought.

"Perhaps that's an unfair expectation," he said aloud, considering. "What I did when I was a newborn was . . . unnatural. I wouldn't expect that level of denial from any newborn and that is why I've chosen to stay here with you. But the conviction and strength it took you to run away from the mail carrier was unbelievable. I believe you can safely stay on your own for a half hour. Besides, you are stubborn enough that you would do anything to avoid disappointing yourself."

"And you," I said, looking at my feet. "You're right, of course. I would do anything in my power to avoid disappointing you. But what if I can't help it?"

_I trust you_, he thought with a smile. "I'll be back in under forty-five minutes."

"I'll be holding my breath," I muttered, and slammed my textbook closed.

I heard the door close and I stood at the window listening to him as he ran through the forest towards town. He was cataloguing his run and breathing deeply to assure me that there were no human scents anywhere close to the house. Unfortunately, there was plenty of human scent once he got close to the cluster of houses approximately a mile away. The smell burned my throat and made me dizzy with thirst. I gripped the windowsill hard as the desire to hunt out the smell coursed through my body.

_I'm sorry, Edward_, he thought as he slowed down and held his breath. The scent was dissipating from my mind, but I remembered it and I wanted it. _I believe in you, son. I know that you can resist this_.

His thoughts were getting fuzzier; I knew that he was reaching the edge of my range. I began to panic slightly. I hadn't been without another immortal's thoughts in my mind since I awoke as a vampire.

_Edward, you're going to lose my voice here. Remember: I trust you and I believe in you_.

There were a few more moments of his thoughts and then he just faded away into the buzz. I was suddenly and completely alone with the racing human thoughts that made little sense to me. If I was human, my heart would have been pounding and my face would have been flushed. I could see myself reflected in the glass and my face betrayed no emotion. I ceased breathing the moment the door closed behind Carlisle. In my panic, I stood completely still, never twitching or moving even a fraction of an inch. I stood _immortally_ still.

I did not move again until I heard Carlisle's thoughts entering my range of perception again. Involuntarily, I took in a deep breath of relief and froze, fearful of what I might smell. I was thankful to only smell the musty dust of our house and our own mingled scents throughout the house. There were no humans around. Carlisle was nearly home; I could hear him calling to me over and over again, telling me that I made it and everything was safe. I still found it nearly impossible to move. I stayed riveted to my spot by the windowsill until Carlisle found me in the spot where he left me.

_It wasn't that bad, was it?_

I growled at him in warning. It was _exactly_ that bad. I hadn't been aware of just how tense and frightened I was of my own nature until Carlisle asked me that question. I looked down at the windowsill, grooves in the shape of my fingers lined the wooden frame.

"Why do you torture yourself so?" he asked. "You've done well."

"I'm going to play," I said through my teeth.

I didn't know why I was angry with him. I had no reason to be angry; he was doing this to protect me. But the fact remained that I was seething with both anger and fear that was uncoiling in my belly and unraveling me. I sat down at the piano and banged on the keys, not caring what came out. The notes were angry and violent, but they gelled together and formed their own composition. In a flurry of passion and anger, I composed my first piece of music.

It was just the balm I needed to assuage the fear and anger that had consumed me. All of the anger dissipated in my discovery and I ran to find Carlisle, eager to share with him my new composition. It was certainly not wonderful, but it was mine. Like a proud father, Carlisle asked me to play it for him twice and then encouraged me to write it down. I laughed, finding it humorous for him to think that I would forget my composition. But I wrote it down anyway, both to appease him and to make my music official. We hunted when the sun went down, venturing close to Lake Michigan in search of larger game. Carlisle didn't pressure me to talk about my outburst, but I knew that he understood. It was comforting to know that he seemed to understand me so well, even if I didn't understand myself.

The weeks leading up to the Denali trip were a flurry of endless paperwork. Carlisle felt that if we were going to undertake this long journey, we ought to make it worthwhile by extending our trip until the spring. However, before we left, he insisted on finishing all of the necessary documentation for claiming the house as mine. He also arranged for the Kellys to legally adopt Edie and made himself my legal guardian.

The paperwork for Edie's adoption was already drawn up and just needed to be signed and filed with the appropriate offices. Mr. Kelly and Carlisle spoke numerous times on the phone regarding questions about the estate. I couldn't help but listen in on these conversations. Carlisle had been concerned that the Kellys might suggest selling the house and divvying up the money in order to care for Edie and me; however, they never suggested it. They were overjoyed to learn that Edie's father had set up a trust fund for her that could serve as a sizable dowry for her. It was only listening in on Carlisle's thoughts that I discovered the true benefactor behind Edie's trust fund. Carlisle was overly generous at times, but I was thankful that he was looking out for my cousin. They refused to touch any of Edie's money, insisting that she would need it "sooner, rather than later." I smiled, thinking of what a beautiful bride my cousin would make.

Carlisle was quite pleased with the Kellys' intentions regarding Edie. He assured me that they wouldn't let her marry too early. Although they could easily see that both she and Tom were intent on marriage, neither the Kellys nor the Flannerys were eager for them to wed young. Carlisle hinted that she might be nearly nineteen before they entertained the notion of marriage. That gave me three years to get my thirst under control. It was a goal that I felt confident I would meet; I intended to see my cousin walk down the aisle.

Because my claim to the house went undisputed by Edie or the Kellys, Carlisle was able to simply use the will that my father had drawn up long ago leaving the house to his only son. It was difficult to see my father's will, but I was pleased that at least my outright ownership of the house had been taken care of by my real father. Carlisle also paid off the remaining mortgage on the house in full. He set up an escrow fund that would pay the taxes on the property for the next several years. The bank didn't bat an eyelash when Carlisle made these arrangements over the phone and asked that any and all paper work be sent to the PO Box. I, on the other hand, was beside myself with the way that Carlisle seemed to be throwing his own money around.

I looked over the finances of my parents' estate and saw that there was more than enough money to cover the mortgage on the house, but Carlisle insisted on paying the mortgage off from his own savings. He insisted to me that my concern was unnecessary, that he had more than enough money to cover the costs of the mortgage and that he wished to put the other funds in a savings account for me. He alluded to the fact that an eternity is a long time, and it was prudent to be careful with money. When I became more upset at him, he let me look at his several bank statements. I never questioned his spending habits again.

* * *

We left for Denali by the light of the nearly full moon, leaving behind the known, safe house that I had called home for nearly two months. We were headed on a journey that might lead to an extended family of sorts for Carlisle and me. It might also lead to unnecessary deaths if we happened across any humans. Carlisle insisted we were being safe. He insisted that nothing would happen. And still I worried as we ran. I worried until we hit the water.

We traveled quickly, running though the nights, swimming during the day when we could. When we reached the northernmost part of Canada, we could run during the day more easily. We had to stop often, not to rest but to hide. We never got close enough to humans that I might smell them, but I could hear their thoughts when we got close to them and we would run deeper into the forest, waiting for a time when it would be safer. It was during one of these layovers that Carlisle brought up the sisters to me.

"How much did Eleazar tell you about Tanya and her sisters?" he asked, careful only to think of their faces.

"Very little," I admitted. "I know what they look like, of course, and that they share our lifestyle. Other than that, I know very little about them."

"So he didn't tell you about their nightly pastimes?" Carlisle asked with a wry smile.

"Well," I hesitated. "He thought briefly of the . . . men . . . that they . . . visited."

This was getting more than uncomfortable. I guessed what the sisters did when they visited the men at night; why was Carlisle bringing it up now? As if _he_ was the one who could read minds, he seemingly answered my question.

"They think about it," he said frowning. "A lot."

"Oh," I said. I sunk into the tree that I was perching in, trying to imagine living with the images that Carlisle was implying I would be subjected to daily while living with Tanya and her sisters. I couldn't. I had no basis for imagining that kind of thought process.

Even though I never considered marriage, I wasn't immune to the charms of the young ladies that my parents had me socialize with. Some of them were very attractive. I admit that I probably considered what it would be like to kiss one of them, although I didn't remember who or when now. However I had no reference to imagine the situations that these female vampires would be replaying in their minds. I began tearing small branches off the tree and throwing them to the ground, stewing over what I had gotten us into. We were approximately three days away from Denali. We could certainly just turn back.

_What are you thinking?_ Carlisle asked, climbing into an adjacent tree.

"I didn't think about the voices in my head," I mumbled. "I didn't think how it would affect me. And I certainly didn't think about _what_ they might be thinking."

"I hadn't thought about it until now," he admitted. He cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the relations between a male and female?"

I leapt from the tree with a grunt; I knew there were no humans in the area and I made no noise when I landed. I stalked off, deeper into the forest.

_We need to have this discussion_, he called after me.

"Why?" I roared. "I have no intention of marrying anyone, so why would I need to have this discussion?"

_But someday_ . . .

"No! No, not someday! I never want to be married. You're fine and you don't have a wife!"

_That isn't because I don't want a mate_, he thought. An image of a human girl, crying in a hospital bed flashed through his mind before he pushed it away. He had jumped out of the tree and joined me on the trail. He would not meet my eyes.

"Who was that?"

"A memory," he said tenderly. "Just an errant thought."

I could tell by the way he remembered her face that she was not just an errant memory for him; she was his most pleasant daydream. My heart broke for him, watching him try desperately to forget her lovely face and tormenting himself with the thought that she was most likely happily married by now.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should have known that in nearly three hundred years . . ."

"It's no matter," he said. "But that is exactly what I mean, Edward. You may think that you are not ready for marriage, but the person may find you when you least expect it. You have an eternity ahead of you, son. You shouldn't dismiss the possibility that you will find your match."

"I can't imagine that eventuality," I admitted. "Those feelings seem so foreign to me."

_I wonder if I changed you too soon_, he thought sadly.

"What do you mean? Too soon?" I asked, curious about the pictures flashing through his mind of immortally perfect children surrounded by smoke and fire.

"Those were the immortal children; one of the blackest times in our kind's history." His voice was low and reverent, but filled with dread. "Vampires looking for companionship changed human children when they were barely more than babies. They were heartbreakingly beautiful and terrifyingly dangerous. One tantrum would take out an entire village of humans. There was a plague of immortal children right around the time that Tanya, Kate, and Irina were made. Their mother, Sasha, was one of the vampires responsible for creating an immortal child and she was destroyed by the Volturi long before I was born. Since that time, there are rules in place preventing our kind from creating immortals that are developmentally too young."

"And you think . . . because I don't want to get married right now, that I'm too much of a child?" I was embarrassed and angry with him all at once.

"You said 'never.'"

"I wanted to get married," I said softly, sitting down at the base of the tree. "That's a lie, actually. Mother wanted me to get married and I fought her tooth and nail about it. She kept pushing me, saying that the right girl was in front of me; I just didn't see her. I knew she meant Anna, but it was never like that for us. I wanted to find the right girl for me. I just can't imagine how that's possible now."

_Because you're not human?_

I nodded. "I know that's unfair. I care about you and you aren't human. I just can't imagine falling in love with another vampire."

He chuckled. _Well, maybe someday your match will find you. But for now, you need to prepare yourself for the mental assault you are going to get._

"Do you think it will be that bad?" Inside, I was horrified. My gift made it impossible for me to give anyone privacy. Up until now, however, no one had thought anything truly embarrassing in my presence. Given what Carlisle was suggesting, that was routine practice for the Denali sisters.

"I assume that Eleazar will warn them of your gift. But as you can imagine, it will be difficult for them to change the way that they think completely."

"I'm sure that no matter how he warns them, my gift will be a shock to them," I mused.

"I'm sure," Carlisle said. "How will you handle it?"

He seemed genuinely curious; I chuckled, thinking back on his original reaction to my gift. He was ever curious about how I handled my gift.

"I imagine that I will spend a lot of time ignoring what I hear," I said, shrugging. "It will be difficult, but I can be a gentleman about it."

"Luckily for you, I'm sure that Tanya owns a piano."

I sighed. I had been afraid to ask, but the piano would definitely make ignoring errant thoughts easier for me.

* * *

I was shocked by the amount of darkness surrounding us as we traveled. Once we reached the northernmost part of Canada, we were lucky to see an hour of sunlight a day. It made traveling easier, but we still traveled slowly. I suspect that Carlisle was reluctant to give up the father-son bonding time that we had shared over the past week of traveling. Certainly, I felt more comfortable with him and was even beginning to think of him as a father-figure. But there was a familiar tug at my heart every time that word was associated with anyone other than my real father. It felt wrong and it hurt. I tried to ignore those feelings every time they came up.

"Where are the Northern Lights?" I asked. I'd read about them before but had never actually seen them.

"You won't see those at this time of year. That's one of the reasons I wanted to stay until the spring, actually. The Northern Lights show up around the spring and autumn equinox."

"Oh," I said, mildly disappointed. I had hoped to see them and I was beginning to wonder more everyday whether this long term visit was going to work out for us. I feared that my mind reading might make it uncomfortable for all parties, but mostly for me.

_Do you see it?_ he thought.

With immortal eyesight, it was difficult to miss the large wooden structure looming ahead of us and billowing smoke from the chimney. I had expected a larger house than Carlisle lived in, but I was not prepared for the wooden complex in front of me. The house itself covered nearly a half acre of land and was three stories tall. I imagined that the additional room allowed for the five vampires to live in peace without always needing to be near one another.

The house was completely surrounded by trees; mortal eyes wouldn't have been able to pick out the carefully worn path that wound through the trees. We followed the path, and the voices that had mingled together in my head as we approached began to get clearer. I could hear Eleazar's familiar voice thinking in Spanish; he was thinking about hunting with Carmen in order find some alone time with her. I heard a female voice thinking in Spanish as well and assumed that must be Eleazar's mate, Carmen. There were two other female voices that I could hear as well.

"I thought you said there were three sisters?" I asked Carlisle as we approached the house. "I only hear Eleazar, a voice that must be Carmen's, and two other female voices."

"That's odd," Carlisle said. "Although one of the sisters might be out hunting or . . ."

I cleared my throat.

_Well,_ Carlisle continued in his head. _That will certainly bring matters to a head rather quickly, don't you agree?_

I wondered if it might be possible to _make_ a vampire blush. I thought for sure that ability would be tested at some point during this trip. _That's Edward and Carlisle!_ Eleazar thought. _I'm coming out to meet you, Edward!_

"Eleazar smelled us," I informed Carlisle.

"We must stink from the road," Carlisle said, pushing me slightly.

I laughed and we both sped up to reach the house more quickly.

* * *

"My friends!" Eleazar said, meeting us at the break of the trees followed by an exceptionally beautiful woman who I had seen in his memory.

"Eleazar," Carlisle and I said at the same time.

"Carmen," I said softly as she took my hand.

"You must be Edward," she said, her voice more heavily accented than Eleazar's. It was sweet and low, a gentle murmuring in the night. With her brown curls framing her face and her light gold eyes, she couldn't have been further from what I remembered of my mother. And yet, there was something in her that reminded me of Mother. When she opened her arms to welcome me, I willingly hugged her back.

Her scent was mingled closely with Eleazar's, betraying their close connection, but her scent hit me full force when she stepped closer to embrace me. It was a soft rain shower scent mixed with wildflowers and sugar, it was quite comforting and I breathed it in deeply.

_Edward, what are you doing?_ Carlisle asked me.

"I --" I stepped away from Carmen like she was burning me. "I'm sorry. That was terribly rude of me. Please forgive me."

Eleazar and Carmen both laughed heartily, their arms winding gently around each other. _You're no threat to me, boy_.

I smiled at him. Seeing their easy way with each other and the gentle touches that they shared, I imagined for the first time what a comfort it must be for the both of them to always have the other. I looked at them, remembering that they had already been together for nearly four hundred years, and I began to see Carlisle's point about finding a mate. I sighed. Perhaps one day. Right now I felt bad for Carlisle and remembered the young girl that passed through his memory. I wondered when that memory had occurred and what had become of her.

"Come in!" Eleazar boomed, putting an arm around Carlisle's neck. "Tanya will be so sorry that she missed your arrival. She's out for the evening but should be back by morning."

We walked up to the house and were greeted by two more vampires. According to Carlisle, Irina and Kate were even older than Eleazar, although it was hard to imagine. They were, of course, immortally perfect. The smaller, darker haired vampire called Kate was eyeing me warily after our initial greetings. She kept flexing her hands, considering whether or not I would need to be "shocked" at some point.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Kate," I said softly, eyeing her just as carefully. I caught her off guard. She stared at me open-mouthed, her eyes narrowing as she sized me up.

Everyone around us quieted to see what would happen. Carlisle was already deciding that he would step in front of me if need be. He was put out that Kate would antagonize me immediately and was ready to chastise; he seemed to think Kate would have been better behaved if Tanya was here. I held out my hand to him to keep him where he was. I could handle this.

I walked closer to Kate and she hissed softly at me. "I'm sorry if I make you nervous, Kate," I said, smiling widely at her. "I assure you I mean no one here any harm."

"Eleazar told us about your gift," she said. "And your fighting abilities."

"Still sore that I beat you, Eleazar?" I asked, chuckling.

He growled softly, but not in an unfriendly way. He walked over and stood next to me, his arm around my shoulders. His actions softened Kate slightly, her head cocked to the side as she regarded us in our easy friendship.

"It is good that you came here," he said, his eyes steady on Kate. "I am looking forward to some rematches."

"Excellent," I said. _Kate will be fine, _he thought._ She is good and gentle; but she is suspicious. Give her time._

I nodded nearly imperceptibly at him and he squeezed my shoulder. I noticed for the first time that Irina had moved closer to her sister and was whispering to her furiously. She was telling Kate to back down and to relax. _"Just look at that beautiful boy; he's no threat to you, Katrina."_

They both chuckled and looked up at me with a little shrug. I shook my head and nodded graciously. I had never been called beautiful before but if it made Kate calm down, I was happy to allow them to think me beautiful.

"You are too kind to me, ladies," I said softly, allowing my voice to dip low. They both sucked in their breath and smiled warmly at me. I had a difficult time holding back the smirk that was creeping onto my face as I saw myself through their eyes. My smile, my lowered eyelids, my hair in my face . . . I had just distracted a pair of female vampires.

_Edward_, Carlisle thought with a warning tone. _We'll discuss this later_.

"Edward," Irina said. "Eleazar told us that you enjoyed playing the piano. Would you like me to show you where ours is located?"

"Thank you, Irina," I said softly, winking at Carlisle. I was feeling light and happy, having diffused the situation with Kate. I could tell that Carlisle was proud of how I had handled myself, even if he disapproved of my distraction techniques.

I followed Irina through the enormous house, looking at the vast differences between this house and Carlisle's house. The house was more richly decorated than Carlisle's house. All of the bedrooms were furnished with beds, side tables, and other niceties. The hallways were decorated with carpets, vases, and mirrors. The difference was that someone had taken the time to _decorate_, whereas Carlisle simply filled empty space. It was nice to be in a place that felt homey.

_This is strange, you know? You hearing my thoughts_, she thought, looking at me with lowered eyes.

"Yes," I said. "Almost as strange as it is to hear them."

She chuckled, nodding her assent. _Please forgive Katrina. She feels very protective of us all, being the only one with a talent and an offensive one as well_.

"Eleazar told me that Kate was talented, but he didn't mention or think of her talent," I said. "Of course, I assume that it has something to do with shocking, given her thoughts from this evening."

"Yes," she said. "If Kate doesn't want someone to touch her, she can emit a shock that hurts quite a lot. So don't startle her!"

"No, that wouldn't do at all, would it?"

We continued walking down the hall until we reached a large, closed room.

"Well, this is our music room," she said, opening a door to a large, uncarpeted room. There was a small, upright piano in the corner along with several stringed instruments along the wall. _None of us are very good; we dabble. Eleazar had the piano tuned when he returned from visiting you just in case . . . you know he's very glad that you came._

"I like Eleazar a great deal," I said. "I was anxious to meet his family."

"Well, Tanya will be home in a few hours; she will want to welcome you and Carlisle as well," she said. _I can't wait to see her face . . ._ Her thoughts broke off as she remembered I was listening. She smiled in apology. "This is going to take some getting used to," she said, pointing to her temple.

"Indeed," I said, rolling my eyes.

* * *

Carlisle and I hadn't hunted the two nights prior to our arrival at Denali and he was anxious for me to get some hunting in. We promised everyone that we would be back before morning so that we could meet Tanya and then we were off.

We didn't go far this time; Eleazar made Carlisle promise not to let me get a polar bear without him there to watch. So we contented ourselves with elk.

"Larger, smellier deer," I said with a frown after I drained a buck.

"But more filling," Carlisle said. _What was going on in there?_

I shrugged. "The situation needed diffusing," I said.

"So you decided to flirt with a pair of thousand year old immortals in order to _diffuse_ the situation?"

"I didn't see any harm in it," I said, growing defensive. Carlisle was overreacting. "You said that you use your lures frequently to accomplish your goals."

"With humans!" he burst out. "Honestly, Edward, do you really want to entice the two succubus sisters?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" I exclaimed, embarrassment flooding me. "I assure you there were no thoughts such as those in their minds. I had no intention . . ."

"I know that," he interrupted, chuckling at my innocence. "My point is that you are unaware of the nature of _their_ intentions. You may wish to be more careful with your 'accidental distractions.'"

I hung my head, disgusted with myself and my actions. Carlisle, always so much in tune with my mood, understood that I was angry with myself.

_It's not your fault_, he thought. _I should have prepared you better for this. They are quite beautiful and I can understand how you may be enamored with them._

"No," I spat. "It wasn't that! I -- I wasn't trying to seduce them!"

He chuckled. _They might be disappointed to hear that, you know?_

I made a noise of disgust and stalked away from him.

_Edward, you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You can't be perfect._

I snorted. He was and he didn't even know it. I was angry at myself for my careless actions. What if one of them decided they wanted to be with me? How awkward would it be to explain to them that I was merely _practicing_ my charms on them?

"Would you mind if I went to play for a while?" I asked. "Before Tanya arrives home?"

_Of course_, he thought. _Don't berate yourself, Edward. I overreacted and the girls were fine with everything. I'm too protective of you at times_.

"And I'm too reckless," I mumbled. "Please come and get me when Tanya arrives."

I walked back to the house and excused myself from my hosts, begging leave to play the piano. I listened carefully to their thoughts as I exited the room, carefully combing through to make sure they weren't angry or otherwise occupied with me. None of them seemed to be anything other than anxious to hear the newborn play the piano. I smiled as I walked to the music room. It was such a novelty to them; they hadn't been around a newborn in centuries and they were excited to see my volatile mood swings and energy. I knew I wouldn't disappoint them with mood swings.

I was content to sit at the piano and let the music flow from me tonight. I began with Chopin, but the melody turned and danced around, morphing out of Chopin's familiar Minute Waltz into the more complicated and dark tones of his third Sonata for piano. After that, the music changed again, arranging itself, seemingly without my help. I was composing an elegiac tune of apology to Carlisle, hoping he could hear it and understand. I remembered my happiness and hopefulness when we first arrived, and those emotions worked their way into the music as well. It was freeing to be able to express my emotions so effortlessly.

* * *

I first heard her thoughts directed towards me as I transitioned out of the sad elegy and into a more hopeful key. Tanya was standing in the doorway, watching me as I played. I could see myself through her eyes, the way my body moved with the music and the way my eyes were closed in both concentration and emotion. But seeing myself through her mind was not the same as looking through Carlisle or Eleazar's eyes. She was enjoying the sight of me playing; but there was more there, something that I had never been exposed to before. She was devouring the sight of me, thinking immediately of ways to initiate conversation with me and entice me to touch her.

I felt panicked. I was missing notes repeatedly as my mind stumbled over ways to graciously walk away from her. I switched from my own composition to the familiar _Clair de Lune_. I was at least certain that I wouldn't miss the notes of that song as it had been a comfort to me since I began playing.

She recognized the music and knew that I was aware of her. She began to think directly at me.

_Hello, Edward_, she thought. _Please don't stop playing; your music is lovely. Eleazar has told us so much about you, but his descriptions hardly managed to capture you._

I could feel the prickling on my skin that would have been perspiration in my former life. A fleeting thought passed through my mind. I wondered how many girls had thought of me this way as a human while I was blissfully unaware. For the first time in my new vampire life, I prayed for a switch to turn off Tanya's thoughts. Unfortunately, I could not find the switch. I looked up and Tanya was walking into the room.

_**A/N: I'm an evil, evil author, right? he he he. Well, I gave you a lot more than I did last chapter and you deserve it. I know my updates aren't coming as quickly as they used to, but I hope that the quality is remaining steady and you are continuing to enjoy the story. Just so you are aware, I will be busy with a family member who is going in for surgery next week; I may not get an update in next week. But, I promise to update as quickly as I can.**_

**_If you've been visiting my profile, you may already know this news. I will be participating in The Fandom Gives Back author auction on June 26th. "I" am up for bid. That's right. If you would like me to write a story for you, where you determine the pairings and the general direction of the story (AH/AU/Canon), you can bid on me on June 26th. All of the money raised for this event will be donated to Alex's Lemonade Stand. For my auction, you can choose to bid on the larger item (a novella length story of about seven chapters) with a starting bid of twenty dollars. Or, you can participate in the first come first serve auction where the first three bidders of five dollars or more will get a one shot of their very own. You can go about bidding in a bunch of different ways. Some of the bigger named authors already have "teams" of fans set up, ready to bid large amounts on their offerings. If any of you want to try to get together to do that, let me know and I'll put you in contact with each other. Of course, individual bids are just as welcome. I'm hoping that I can generate some money for this cause. A friend's daughter passed away from cancer just this Christmas and I am doing this in her honor. There are links on my profile page for the FGB website with details about the auction and the other authors offering up their talents. This is a fandom wide event and there are a huge number of author's participating. Consider donating, even if you aren't bidding on me. Alex's Lemonade Stand is such a worthy cause, I hope we can make this year as successful as last year!_**

**_Please leave a review because reviews are as beautiful as Edward crouched in a tree, sparkling in the moonlight. :) ~Jen_**


	28. The Fickle Mind of Woman

_**A/N: Please take a moment to read the end note; some exciting news!**_

Tanya sauntered toward me, biting her index finger as she watched me play. She continued to think openly, knowing her thoughts were on full display for me. She considered this to be a seduction of some kind. She was thinking about kissing me, wondering what I would do. It excited her that I might try to fight her; it was a challenge for her. She reached the piano and draped her arms over the back of the upright, her eyes never leaving mine.

It wasn't that she was unattractive. She was quite beautiful, actually. Her eyes were the softest honey color and they complemented the reddish blond curls surrounding her face perfectly. She looked to be about nineteen, but I knew the truth. Carlisle told me on our journey that the sisters were older than Eleazar. Despite her physical attractiveness, she actually frightened me. She was a completely sexual being, and she made no secret of what she wanted from me.

For all I knew, girls always thought this way about men. I couldn't be sure, of course; Tanya and her sisters were the first women I could hear think. However, I doubted highly that the young ladies Mother brought to the house imagined taking me to their bedrooms and stripping naked in front of me. My seventeen year old body was beginning to respond to the mental images she was showing me despite the fact that my rational mind was becoming increasingly disgusted. Tanya was a beautiful woman and she was showing me images of herself in strange situations, imagining what I would do to her. I honestly didn't understand what I was seeing. Father had explained what went on between a man and a woman, but it was nothing like what I was seeing in Tanya's mind.

Although I was flattered by the immediate attraction she clearly felt for me, I was in no position to give Tanya what her thoughts were telling me she wanted. I couldn't bring myself to believe that she truly _wanted_ what she was thinking about. Perhaps they were just thoughts she couldn't control.

I switched to the "Moonlight Serenade," seamlessly blending the two pieces together so I wouldn't have to stop playing for a second. This was not the way courting ought to go. Much of this was my fault. At least, the fault of my gift. I shouldn't be able to see what she was thinking about me. If I couldn't see it, this wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable. Rationally, I told myself to block out her thoughts and give her some privacy. She was just thinking so loudly.

I continued to play, trying to delay the moment when I would have to speak to her. Mother raised me to be a gentleman, but I doubted Tanya would give me the chance to be one. The emotion clouding her eyes right now was not love or even mere attraction. It was lust. I vaguely remembered one of a few uncomfortable talks I'd had with my father when I was a bit younger, before Mother began bringing girls to the house. He told me about the difference between love and lust and reminded me lust was a dangerous emotion. He told me never to let lust rule me as it would only lead to hurt. I even remembered some of his words: "Son, lust without love is a dangerous animal and impossible to tame. Stay away from it." I didn't know what he was talking about at the time, but I could see the animal my father referred to stalking me in Tanya's eyes.

I listened more closely to her thoughts. She assumed she had the upper hand. I realized what I needed to do. Despite my discomfort, I needed to take control of the situation. I needed to ignore her advances and treat her as I would have treated any young woman I had been introduced to. I needed to ignore the raw want in her eyes and the thoughts in her mind, focusing on my own thoughts. I sought out thoughts I was more comfortable with. There were Carlisle and Eleazar. They were catching up on what Eleazar had missed after he left Chicago. In the back of his mind, Carlisle was wondering where Tanya had gone and why I was still playing. I rolled my eyes listening to him think about the situation. He wasn't far off in his estimation of what Tanya sought out when she went looking for me.

I realized that Tanya was offended when she noticed me rolling my eyes; she was hurt by what she perceived as a dismissal.

I sighed and stopped playing, looking up calmly at Tanya. I didn't wish to hurt her; I just wanted to make her stop thinking for a moment so that I might think clearly. She was making that remarkably difficult.

"You must be my cousin, Tanya," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm pleased to meet you."

She batted her eyes at me, placing her hand in mine.

"We don't need those artificial terms here, Edward," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Carlisle and I are so pleased that you've agreed to let us come so I can meet the rest of our family."

I cleared my throat and met her eyes, difficult though it was to do so. I could still see the stalking animal in her eyes; she wanted me. I didn't realize women felt that way about men. None of the women in my life before were ever wanton like this around the men in their life. Certainly none of the girls I had been introduced to looked at me with such open lust and desire.

"I think it's sweet that _Carlisle_ considers us family," she said, coming around the piano to stand behind me. "But surely _you_ can't feel that way yet. We've just met, after all."

She placed her hands on my shoulders, squeezing slightly, and my reaction was immediate. I stood with blinding speed, knocking the piano bench and Tanya over in the process. I leapt across the room and landed facing Tanya with my teeth bared. I knew I was overreacting to her gentle touch, but everything about this woman set me on edge. I could tell exactly what she wanted of me, and I was afraid I would need to fight her to avoid her advances.

Instead of backing off after my outburst, Tanya seemed even more interested in pursuing me. She crouched in the corner, panting and watching me as I growled a warning at her. Carlisle and Eleazar had become alarmed when they heard the piano bench banging over. They both rushed through the door, their eyes darting between Tanya and me. Eleazar straightened up almost immediately, deducing from Tanya's face what had happened. Carlisle remained crouched, angry at what he saw happening and experiencing a shock of unpleasant memories. It seemed I was not the first vampire Tanya had attempted to seduce.

"What is going on here, sister?" a soft voice came from the door.

"Edward and I just had a misunderstanding, Carmen," Tanya replied. "Nothing to worry about."

Tanya's eyes never left me and I could not stop the snarl building in my chest. I wanted her to stop looking at me like that.

Carmen made her way into the room, passed her mate, and came to stand at Carlisle's side. It seemed she could sense his uneasiness. She whispered quickly to him.

"Take your boy out to the forest; Eleazar and I will meet you there. All will be well."

Carlisle favored Tanya with a parting snarl as he called me to him.

_Come,_ he said. _You don't need to stay here. Let Carmen handle this_.

I gladly walked out of the room next to him. I could still hear her cloying thoughts, but just being out of the snare of her gaze was freeing. I found myself breathing hard as we walked quickly past the other sisters. They were at once embarrassed and defensive of their sister. Their thoughts were stumbling over each other in both apology and defense. I managed a polite nod at them and then followed Carlisle out the door. Once outside, I was able to shift my mind away from Tanya's thoughts and focus more fully on Carlisle's. He was still quite angry.

"She did this to you," I said. It wasn't a question.

He nodded, thin-lipped.

"I did not have a gift which she could use against me, though. I could see what she was doing as soon as I walked in the room."

I shrugged. "I doubt it was really intentional. It seemed quite natural for her mind to think those things."

"I have no doubt," he spat. "Her mind probably resides permanently in the vile scum of the gutter."

I had never heard Carlisle speak so ill of someone before. I looked over at him, questioning his harsh tone and angry words. If I was ready to forgive Tanya, why couldn't he?

_I'm sorry, Edward. I know that is very mean-spirited of me_.

"Why?" I asked. "I don't mean to judge you -- I'm just confused."

"She attempted to seduce me on previous visits," he said, his voice hard as he remembered it. "She was relentless, seeing it as a personal challenge to break down my walls. It was for that reason as much as any other that I rarely visited."

_I never guessed she would switch her focus so quickly_.

"You're…jealous?" I asked.

"Certainly not!" he roared, laughing. "Incredulous, yes. Angry, extremely. But not because she chose you instead of me. I'm angry at her for treating you in that manner. We can leave if you would prefer."

"We just got here." I waved my hand in dismissal. "Besides, I'm not interested in Tanya's charms. When Carmen settles her down, I will speak with her and explain myself."

_Would that it could be so easy, son_, he thought.

I snickered. I had seen inside of her head; I knew it would not be that easy. However I would not give up this time with Eleazar and the rest of his family because of Tanya's uncontrollable thoughts. I would be firm with her and explain that it could never be that way between us. She would have to understand. Despite her forward thoughts, I doubted she would be brazen enough to force me into something I did not wish to pursue.

I was also beginning to understand Carlisle's anger. His anger was hidden under several layers, but it boiled down to his fear of losing me. He would never deny me a mate if I chose one, but he did not think Tanya _worthy_ of me. I smiled. How very fatherly of him.

"Eleazar and Carmen are coming," I said unnecessarily; Carlisle had already heard them.

"Come, friend," Eleazar said to Carlisle. "You owe me a rematch in chess."

Carlisle looked at him warily, but I understood immediately what was happening.

"It's fine, Carlisle," I said. "Carmen wishes to have a few moments alone with me."

"Yes," Eleazar said winking. "Our Edward is quite popular with the ladies today."

I rolled my eyes at him, but chuckled nonetheless.

"Go, Carlisle," Carmen said. "I'll bring him back in just a few minutes. And be gentle with Tanya when you get back."

A low growl ripped through Carlisle's chest, but Eleazar gripped him firmly around his shoulder, whispering quickly to him, so softly that I couldn't hear with my ears, though I knew what he was saying. _Let Carmen talk to him. Her advice will be useful to him now_. Carlisle was being difficult; I could tell that his inner anger with Tanya was warring with his drive to remain cordial. I looked over at Carmen who nodded almost immediately at me. She understood what I needed to do.

"Carlisle," I said, walking over to him. "Please, don't harm your relationship with Tanya because of me. I can handle this. I'm sure of it."

I wanted him to trust me. Before I said that I could handle it, I didn't realize how badly I wanted him to believe that I _could_ handle it. I wanted to impress him.

He looked at me and then smiled. _I'm sure you'll come up with something, Edward. Just know the option to leave is there if you want it_.

I nodded to him and he left me alone in the clearing with Carmen. I heard her as she watched her mate leave, analyzing the thoughts which were running through her head, matching them to the thoughts I had heard in Tanya's mind.

Carmen's thoughts about Eleazar were soft and gentle, taking in both the gentle way his hair blew in the breeze as well as the natural camaraderie he shared with Carlisle. She was proud of the way he took control of the situation and settled Carlisle down. There was a yearning in her to be with him and yet she was happy to see him with his dear friend. I could sense the fire of her deep passion for him burning in her mind, but it was subdued with so many other emotions. I imagined this was the lesson that my father tried ineloquently to teach me before. Lust was a difficult animal to tame, but I could see in Carmen's mind the one thing that was capable of the task: true love.

"She doesn't love me," I said softly, smiling.

"Does that disappoint you?"

"No," I said. "It relieves me, actually. I wouldn't want to break her heart, but I don't mind disappointing her desires."

Carmen laughed. She was so lovely, so much more dazzling than Tanya had been as she tried to seduce me. I could see the love she held for Eleazar in every part of her. I was suddenly filled with an ancient ache in my heart as I was painfully reminded of my mother and father. They had looked at each other the way that Eleazar and Carmen looked at each other. Carmen's gentle voice brought me back to the present.

"You are very wise for your young years," she said. _Both human and vampire._

"Wise or not, I have no idea how to handle this, Carmen," I said, running my fingers through my hair nervously. "I don't want to hurt her; truly I don't. It's just…I don't feel that way for her."

"That's nothing to feel bad about, Edward," she said_. I don't imagine she was showing you a happily ever after_.

I cringed, remembering her thoughts and scandalous looks.

"I didn't come out here to talk negatively about my sister," Carmen said quickly. "Tanya isn't a one dimensional creature, even though her thoughts may seem totally focused in one direction at times."

"It was difficult for me to see past the thoughts she was throwing at me. She seemed very deliberate about what she was thinking," I admitted.

_She doesn't know how to interact with men without making it about sex,_ Carmen thought. "Did Carlisle tell you about Tanya and her sisters?"

"I saw enough in Eleazar's mind." I grimaced, thinking back to how Tanya remembered the man she had been with before coming home, and how she had inserted me into her memories. I shuddered.

"You find it disgusting?" she asked.

"It is not anything I understand," I said.

She laughed at me. _You are very judgmental for a mind-reader, Edward._

I thought about that. Was I being judgmental in thinking Tanya was brazen for her forward thoughts? I didn't believe I was. In fact, I thought I was being generous in not writing her off as a hussy. I chuckled softly, thinking about the word that Mother used to describe ill-mannered or loose women.

"I didn't mean to be judgmental. I just don't understand what would make her seek out physical love without…well, without what you and Eleazar have."

"Ah, you want it all," she said with a smile.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't want any of it right now." I looked up at her, challenging her to argue with me or tell me I didn't know what I wanted. Surprisingly, she remained quiet, considering.

"Mother used to argue with me nearly every day about finding my match," I said, trying to fill the uncomfortable pause while she pondered my words. "She thought I was being stubborn on purpose, but really I just wanted to find the perfect person for me. I still want that, even if it's impossible now."

"But why would it be impossible?"

"Look at me," I spat. "I'm a vampire, frozen in time. Right now I can't imagine the possibility of marrying anyone. Nothing that Tanya showed me moved me in any way. Does that mean that I'll…maybe I'll never find what I'm looking for."

"Oh, I don't believe that and neither do you," she said immediately. "Love is different for us immortals, but it certainly isn't impossible. Eleazar was alone for nearly six hundred years before he found me."

"I know that. But I look at the two of you and what you have and can't even imagine finding that with someone."

"That's because you haven't found her yet," she said, her eyes looking out into the distance.

"Found who?"

"Your soul mate."

I shook my head and chuckled. Carmen, however, continued in her head. _Don't limit yourself because of your nature, Edward. We immortals may be made of stone, but there are powers out there capable of changing us. Don't doubt that you will find your match one day_.

"Would you like a few moments to yourself?" she asked.

I looked at her incredulously. I had grown accustomed to being watched religiously. I assumed that with six other immortals around, I would never get a moment's peace. She began chuckling at my perplexed attitude.

"You're worried about being alone?" she asked.

"No! Just surprised that you would offer."

"There aren't likely to be many humans around here, Edward. We don't need to watch you that carefully."

"Thank you, Carmen. Will you explain to Carlisle?"

_Of course._

She turned and walked slowly toward the house, letting her thoughts linger with me. _Edward, give Tanya some time. Right now you are new and exciting. If you two can get past this, I can see you both being a blessing to the other. Trust your judgment and allow yourself to look past her thoughts if you can. You might be surprised at what you find._

Her thoughts faded as she got closer to the house. I was about four miles away from the house, just out of range to hear them. Thinking back, it was the first time in my vampire existence that I had been completely alone in my own head. Even when Carlisle left me alone to pick up the mail, I could hear the buzzing human voices around me. There was a hollowness in my mind where the other voices would have been. Only with their absence could I sense the part of my mind which processed the voices. There was a void there now, empty and probing into the early morning to find something to listen to. In the silence, I was able to explore my gift more fully.

My mind seemed to have tendrils probing and reaching away from me, searching for voices and other minds to read. I sat cross-legged on the forest floor, closed my eyes and let myself focus completely within my mind. I was able to send the tendrils out of myself and stretch them, seeing how far they could roam. It was an interesting feeling. I couldn't see anything; my eyes were closed and there were no minds for me to look through. And yet I could tell that my mind was _searching_, attempting to find another mind to latch onto.

I got a brief image of my mind as a many tentacled monster, reaching out around me and searching for purchase in the minds of others. It was a comical and vivid picture, strange enough to make me laugh aloud with the thought.

I opened my eyes and looked around the wilderness. The sun was just rising in the East, setting the snow encrusted hills on fire. Though I sat underneath the shade of trees, the sun would hit me soon, setting my skin alight as well. Until now, I had avoided the direct sunlight even while in the house. I purposely stayed away from windows in the day time and made sure to be back at the house before sunrise, fearing the sun's rays would undo me the way they had the first time I saw myself. Today, I decided, it was time for me to accept what I had become.

I closed my eyes and my mind, waiting for the rays of the sun to touch me. I knew I would feel the heat on my body. I was concentrating so hard on feeling the slight changes in temperature that I did not hear her until she was in the clearing. Tanya had come to apologize.

Immediately, I saw myself through her eyes. She came upon me sitting cross-legged, face upturned to the sun and hands resting on my knees. In the minute that her eyes found me, she drew in a jagged breath and her mind went blank. My eyes sprung open to see her staring at me, mouth ajar. When she saw me look at her, she immediately shut her mouth but her mind went into overdrive.

_He is the most perfect being I have ever seen. Innocence, beauty, perfection. I must have--_ She cut herself off and closed her eyes, willing herself to think about the trees, the snow, anything except the perfect memory she had of me sparkling in the morning sun. I stood rapidly and found my way under a tree and in the shade.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she began, her eyes still closed. "I came out here to apologize and it seems I've begun again."

She slowly opened her eyes and smiled when she saw where I was standing. I smiled sheepishly at her, shrugging my shoulders slightly.

"Thank you for your apology," I said. "I suppose I ought to apologize as well for prying into your mind."

_His voice is like liquid honey. Dear God--_

"My mind gets away from me at times," she said, her teeth set and her voice rigid.

"As does every mind."

"Mine perhaps more than others." She snorted, briefly thinking over her long life. It was dizzying the amount of memories she was flipping through. "What? You look surprised."

"You have an incredible wealth of memories right at your fingertips!"

"It is our blessing," she said. _And our curse_, she continued, thinking back on a painful memory of a woman she loved deeply, an immortal who was destroyed long ago. "My mother," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That is a very personal memory. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's OK. My life has been very long, Edward. You are not the first to tempt me nor the only one to resist." She thought of Carlisle with a smile. _I understood with him; you, I do not._

"Why do you understand Carlisle?"

She shrugged. "His father brainwashed him. He has never been willing to let his morals slip. What is your story?"

I leaned my head against the tree, thinking over the talk I had with Carlisle and the one I just had with Carmen. I remembered hazy memories of talks I had with my mother and father. Nothing added up. I looked up at the sky, searching for some answer to give her and finding nothing.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Everything about this life is overwhelming. Everything is so much _more_. I think…I _know_ someday I want to fall in love. But I want that first, before anything else."

"That's sweet." Her voice and thoughts said otherwise. _And what is so distasteful about falling in love with me?_ Her yellow eyes accused me as if I had slapped her in the face.

"Please don't misunderstand, Tanya," I said, stepping forward. "I don't even know you. Is it so wrong to want to _know_ you?"

"No, of course not." _But you will not fall in love with me._

"And are you in love with me?" I asked, knowing the answer.

She threw her head back and laughed heartily, her hair falling back. She looked quite beautiful and free in that moment.

"Of course not, silly boy," she said. "What is love to a woman like me? I don't even know what it is."

"I don't believe that, Tanya," I said, thinking back on the memory she had inadvertently shared with me. I began to see what Carmen was trying to tell me before. Far from being one dimensional, Tanya was a woman who covered herself in layers to protect herself from the pain she had suffered. She had loved and lost bitterly. She felt she _couldn't_ love like that again, fearing the hurt it could bring. I pitied the pain I could see so raw in her eyes at that moment.

She shrugged it off. _We all have our own type of diversions_.

"Indeed. I never meant to judge you," I said, my eyes lowered.

"You know I can never forget," she said. I didn't miss the double meaning. She wasn't talking only about her mother now.

"And you know I will never compromise."

She nodded. _I'm not giving up, Edward._

That was written over every part of her body and mind. No, she didn't love me. She did, however, _want_ me. It was a diversion for her, another challenge. I sympathized with her pain, the loss she felt so acutely even now. Somehow I knew the distraction she was seeking in me wouldn't heal that pain, even though she wanted it to. It was just a mask, another too-small bandage that could never cover the wound. Knowing that made resisting her easier. There would be other distractions for her.

"Carlisle is looking for us," I said. "Will you walk back to the house with me?"

She smiled. _Of course._

It would be a quiet battle of wills between the two of us, but I had faith that we could remain civil. I didn't anticipate any more confrontations like we had earlier this morning; I thought most of our battles would take place within my mind.

_**A/N: Don't be too harsh on Tanya...after all, is there any of you that wouldn't have impure thoughts coming across Edward at the piano? I know for sure I would have made him uncomfortable! LOL I'm interested to hear what you all thought about this chapter. I know it was very highly anticipated and I waded into some uncharted territory here with mention of Tanya and Carlisle before as well as linking Tanya's desire to the loss of her mother. I'm anxious to hear what you thought about those things. :)**_

**_Also, I owe each and every one of you a huge debt of gratitude. I firmly believe that I have some of the most dedicated readers in this fandom and you have proven that beyond a doubt. Edward's story has made it to the finals of the Faithful Shipper Awards for Best Canon Story! That could not have happened but for the determination and vociferous support you have ALL given me throughout this story. I know you've heard me thank you for reading before, but truly you have my thanks for getting the story this far. You are all amazing. There is one more round of voting, which goes until the 12th of this month. If you'd like to vote, you can do so using the same link from my profile. But truthfully, I feel like I've already won. I never thought I would make it through to this round against so many well-known fics. I can't thank you all enough for your love and support. Big hugs and sloppy kisses for everyone! xoxo ~ Jen_**


	29. Momentous Gifts

"Do you want to go for a hunt, Edward?"

Kate and Irina had both gone out of their way to make me more comfortable. It was difficult because Tanya was insistent about trying to remain close to me. Still, they doggedly tried to keep the two of us separated. I knew that part of their persistence stemmed from protecting their sister from further rejection. I thanked them for that as well as for protecting me from more of her silent entreaties.

"Sure, Kate," I responded. "Where would you like to go today?"

"I convinced Eleazar that I would have more fun hunting polar bears with you than he would, so we're going out to the floes, closer to the open water. That's where the biggest ones are."

I rubbed my hands in anticipation. I hadn't forgotten the thrill of taking on the brown bear. From all the stories I had heard, the polar bears were even more enjoyable prey.

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's run."

"Irina is going to join us, if that's ok?"

"Sure," I said, searching her mind to make sure Irina was the only sister who would be joining us. From what I'd seen of Tanya's reactions to me, I didn't particularly want her joining me on a hunt.

"Just the three of us," she said. "Carlisle might join us later. Tanya has…other plans."

"Sorry," I muttered.

I knew it galled Kate and Irina that the four of us couldn't get along like cousins. Having read Kate's mind, I found it immeasurably funny how differently she and Tanya perceived me. Though all three women found me attractive, as I found them attractive, Kate couldn't understand her sister's fascination with me. It was quite comical to hear her thoughts when Tanya was making advance on me. In fact, it was one of the things which diffused the situation for me. It was difficult to stay mad at Tanya with Kate ridiculing her in my head.

"It's OK, Edward," she said easily. "I understand how difficult it is for you. It's difficult for me so I can imagine how rough it is for you."

I smiled. "So, are you going to practice your gift today…possibly stun a few bears for us?"

Kate had been trying to throw her stunning gift away from her body and hadn't had much luck thus far. She didn't have very many willing volunteers to practice on. She had inadvertently stunned me when I startled her after our first night there. After that, I kept a safe distance away from her, much to her continued bemusement. She found it quite humorous that she was able to frighten the newborn with her gift. At my mention of practice, her face twisted into a mask of concentration.

"Yes," she said. "I'm going to try. Maybe while I'm in my hunting mode I'll be able to throw it."

"Just don't throw it near me!" I teased her.

"Are you two ready or are you talking strategy again?" Irina called to us from downstairs.

"Coming, sister," Kate said rolling her eyes.

Irina was waiting for us in the living room along with Tanya who gave the three of us a baleful look as we passed. I had heard her thoughts while Kate and I were speaking upstairs. I had only hoped that she would leave before Irina called for us. Of the two of them, Irina was much more focused on mending the peace between Tanya and me. She disliked the split that it was inadvertently causing in the family.

_I bet you'd look so lovely taking down a polar bear_, Tanya thought when she saw me. Just as I suspected; if Tanya's plans changed to include hunting with us, I was going to have to come up with another plan. It would cause another scene. She must have seen something on my face, because she answered my thoughts with her own. _Oh, don't worry, Edward. I'm not joining you. I have plans to meet a much more agreeable friend than you tonight._

I rolled my eyes at her, reading into her words and knowing what she had planned.

"Have a lovely evening, Tanya," I said courteously, nodding my head at her.

"Oh, I intend to," she replied. _You could too…_

I immediately blocked her thoughts out by focusing on Kate and Irina. It worked better if I just stayed out of her head when she thought these things.

"Right," Kate said quickly. "Let's get moving. I'm anxious to stun some bears."

"Good luck, Katie," Tanya said. _Goodbye, Edward,_ she sang in my head.

"Bye, Tanya," I responded.

We took off through the darkening evening toward the ice floes that edged the water. Though there were many bears there and we each had our fill, Kate was disappointed in her attempts to stun the bears. The only time her gift worked on the bears was when she was touching them.

After we fed, we played along the ice floes. It was quite enjoyable and the first time I had ever played any games as a vampire. The girls introduced me to a version of handball which used chunks of ice and our bare hands.

"Edward, you can bat first," Irina said, backing up to the farthest ice floe. "I'll field and Katie will pitch. Don't miss because we don't have a catcher."

"Yes, you do," a voice called out from behind me.

I hadn't noticed any thoughts approaching us, but when I honed in, I could hear not only Carlisle, but Eleazar and Carmen as well.

"Ah! You and Eleazar came as well," Kate said happily. She briefly wondered if Tanya would make an appearance, but then pushed it from her mind, intent on enjoying the game. We weren't split into teams; those who were not batting would play the field. Carlisle had already taken his spot as the catcher, and Eleazar and Carmen were running impossibly far out to the furthest ice floes to play outfield.

"Excellent," Kate said, forming the ice ball in her hand. "It's pretty simple really, Edward. Just hit it as hard as you can and then run as fast as you can around the marked bases."

Kate wound up and threw a blindingly fast ball at Carlisle's outstretched hands. Still young enough to be awed by my new abilities, I marveled at the clarity with which I could see the ball coming at me. I watched as it spiraled through the air, turning and whizzing toward me. I didn't even need to think about moving my arm in order to strike the ball at the perfect time.

What I didn't count on was the relative force I would need in order to hit the ball without smashing it into thousands of pieces. When the entire field began laughing hysterically at me, I realized I had been played.

"Ah, that never gets old," Kate said.

"But it only works on newborns," Irina said, still laughing.

"I thought for sure he would have read it in one of our minds," Eleazar chimed in.

"Very funny," I muttered. "All of you are very, very funny."

_Don't be sore, son_, Carlisle chided. _They're playing with you._

I looked over at him and winked, letting him know that I was playing as well.

"Oh, don't be angry with us, Edward!" Kate whined. "We really do play this; we're just a bit more careful with our force."

"Yes," Irina called. "And perhaps Katie won't make as slushy an ice ball next time!"

"So you tricked me!"

I couldn't hold in the laughter any longer and before long all of us were doubled over, laughing at the sheer hilarity of the situation. We finally got ourselves under control and with some gentle reminders from Carlisle, I had a successful at bat. It was actually a very useful lesson in judging my own strength.

I was taking my turn in the outfield when I heard Tanya coming. She was traveling quickly, hoping to surprise us. I thought about warning the others but then I realized that I was treating her as an intruder, not a member of the family. I wanted to be better than that.

Carlisle was up to bat and hit the ice ball almost directly at me. My competitive instincts kicked in and I leapt in the air for the ball. Tanya came upon the field just as I snatched the ball out of the air and landed with a deafening crack on the edge of the ice floe. I moved quickly away from the edge of the water so that I didn't fall completely in.

She was clapping as she watched me throw the ball back to Kate. Her mind was split in two directions. On the one hand, she wanted to join in the fun that her family was having. On the other, she wanted me to herself. It was uncomfortable listening to her war with herself and fight to keep her thoughts under control. It was also getting more apparent that my rejection stung her more every time she thought about it. I disliked hurting her.

"Do you have room for another player?" she asked.

"Of course, sister!" Kate said too enthusiastically. It was clear everyone was worried about how this would progress.

_Edward, is she being reasonable?_ Carlisle's voice cut above the others in my head and I frowned at him. He had been getting more and more protective of me. Although he hadn't come out and reprimanded her, his thoughts were becoming more and more agitated. I knew he was angry that I was having to "suffer in silence" as he thought of it. But I worried that if he tried to approach her about it, they would say things to each other that they would regret. I nodded my head once in order to appease him and then shut him out, unwilling to listen to his thoughts at the moment.

Tanya joined in the game. Despite frequent errant thoughts about what the privacy of this plane could offer us, she remained quiet. To the casual observer, she would have appeared uninterested in me. However, no one participating in the game was a casual observer. Carlisle's thoughts became increasingly upset as he watched her look at me. After the game was over, I convinced the rest of the family to go back to the house so that I could have a few moments to talk with Carlisle alone. I wanted to convince him that he needn't be so worried about me.

"This has to stop," I said quietly, once we were alone and out of ear shot.

"You don't understand what it's like for me," he said, knowing what I was referring to immediately.

"And you don't understand what it's like for me," I burst out. "You think you know what I'm hearing when she looks at me, but you don't!"

"Edward, her thoughts are written pretty clearly across her face."

"No," I said loudly. "That's just it. They're not. Look, Carlisle, I appreciate your concern and protection. But the anger you're feeling towards Tanya is unwarranted right now. Yes, I know that she wants me."

He winced as I said it so plainly. Though I had seen his memories of how she had tried to seduce him, I knew that she had never gotten physical with him. When we were alone in the stand of trees, I saw in Tanya's mind why that was: she respected Carlisle's morals though she verbally made fun of them. She wouldn't challenge them.

"But," I continued, "she isn't physically pursuing me any longer. The day in the music room was a…mistake. And she cannot help her thoughts. It isn't her fault that I am able to hear everything she thinks about me."

"She could hide it if she tried," he said. _She knows it makes you uncomfortable and yet she still continues to think those things_.

"You know better than anyone how difficult it is to hide things from me!" I burst out. "Truthfully, Carlisle, how hard did you try to hide your wish to call me 'son'? You knew it was a raw spot for me after the death of my parents, but it was impossible for you to hide that. It's the same principle. I fail to understand how I can see that and you can't."

He looked back at me, his eyes both sad and proud at the same time. _You are a forgiving boy_, he thought. _But with all of your mind reading, you still don't see through me as easily as you think you do._

I furrowed my brows in concentration and tried to listen more closely to him. He laughed in response to my concentration.

"You hear a lot, but you can't hear the bonds of relationships," he said. "I didn't just _want_ to call you my son, I consider you so. Though it may seem irrational to you, her actions anger me because I know they cause you discomfort. I don't understand it all myself, but I am beginning to. I imagine there are many parents who feel the same way when their son or daughter is forced into an uncomfortable situation."

I considered his words. I knew he considered me his son, but he was right. My gift didn't allow me to _see_ the strength of that bond or _feel_ the depth of his feelings for me. I assumed I knew the depth of his feelings, but I could see in his eyes that I didn't really understand.

"Edward, I've never been a parent before. I think if I had been, I might know better how to explain this to you. I trust you to do the right thing with Tanya and I won't interfere. That doesn't mean that her actions don't make me angry."

"I think I understand better now," I said, shaking my head. "I worried that you would act rashly and injure your relationship with her or one of the others. It means more to me than you can imagine to know that you trust me to handle this."

_I've always trusted you, son_, he thought, putting his hand firmly on my shoulder. _Let's get back. I'm sure they're ready to begin the festivities._

"I nearly forgot!" I exclaimed. "Merry Christmas, Carlisle."

"Merry Christmas, son."

"Do you remember that first Christmas?" Tanya asked her sisters.

We were sprawled around the large living room, the family's presents to each other lying opened and discarded as we talked. It was comfortable, for possibly the first time since Carlisle and I arrived. Everyone was enjoying each other's company and there were no ill thoughts floating around the room.

"Christmas, sister?" Irina asked, laughing. "Could you even call it that?"  
"Perhaps Yule would be more appropriate…" Tanya concurred.

"Were you all turned at the same time?" I asked.

"No, I was first," Tanya said. "We were referring to our first Christmas together, after our Katie joined the family."

"It's amazing to me how you talk so casually about events that took place over a thousand years ago!" I exclaimed.

"That's just because it is so new to you," Tanya said. "I was an old pro by the time our Katie came along. I was changed almost ten years before she was."

"Doesn't make much difference now, sister," Kate protested, pushing her sister's shoulder.

"Still, she likes to be the oldest," Irina teased.

They were fascinating to watch and listen to. They were having nearly identical memories playing at the same time.

"Tell me," Tanya said, looking at me curiously. "Why are you smiling?"

"It's so interesting for me to listen to you and your sisters think," I said. "Admittedly, my gift hasn't been greatly tested, but this is the first time I've read the minds of three people who have been together for so long. You think and remember together."

The sisters smiled at each other and reached out their hands to each other. Their connection was immediate and palpable. Their touch was comforting to each other and it calmed their minds almost immediately. It was pleasant to listen to them as they thought about their young days together. They told us stories about their first holidays and the different traditions they celebrated. It was fascinating to hear about how similar and how different life was for them when they were "born."

"Times were very different for us then," Irina said.

Eleazar nodded as did Carmen and Carlisle.

"Times were far more superstitious than they are now; our way of life was suspected if we slipped in even the slightest degree," Tanya agreed.

"Our lifestyle didn't help matters," Kate mentioned, rolling her eyes. "Women started to talk about their husbands and the dreams they had about strange women. Later, when those men ended up dead, they started talking about the succubus sisters who were terrorizing their men."

"It was lucky for us when Tanya fought that bear and found its blood palatable," Irina said.

"That was a hard transition for all of us," Tanya said, still gazing at me. Her gaze, however, wasn't uncomfortable. She was sizing me up, seeing how I reacted to her story. "Still, it was a blessing to us to be able to avoid human blood."

"Was it very difficult…to give up?" I asked tentatively.

"It's fine to ask," Kate said smiling. "Have you smelled a human yet?"

I nodded fiercely, remembering the smell of the postal worker and the memories that both Carlisle and Eleazar couldn't help sharing with me. Kate chuckled at my answer.

"So then you know how tempting it is for us. That doesn't really go away. But to us, the benefits of this lifestyle far outweigh what we are giving up."

I looked around at the room full of golden eyed vampires, remembering what Carlisle and Eleazar told me about large groups of our kind residing together. I thought I could understand what Kate was referring to, and I didn't think she was talking about their trysts with human men.

After the family festivities and storytelling, I wasn't surprised that Carlisle wanted to slip away from the large group. This was an important day for us; it was our first holiday as a "family." I knew there was something he was meaning to give me, but for the life of me I couldn't see what he had. He was getting much better at blocking my gift.

"Where are we headed?" I asked.

"Hmm, maybe we could hunt some penguins?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "No, really, what did you have in mind?"

"Actually, you shouldn't roll your eyes. Penguins are quite an acquired taste."

"As I recall, when my mother told me something was an 'acquired taste,' it usually meant that I would hate it until I learned to cleverly disguise my distaste with acceptance."

He laughed heartily, nodding. _Yes, something like that_.

"No, I imagine neither of us need to hunt right now. Still full from the polar bear?"

"No, I'm not particularly thirsty. What did you have in mind?"

_Have you ever seen a glacier?_

"No," I replied, my eyes widening. "I've read about them and seen drawings, but I've never actually seen one."

"Let's go," he said smiling. "I've been looking forward to showing you this since we decided we were headed here."

We talked as we ran, rehashing our conversation about Tanya from earlier as well as talking about some of my increasingly frequent hunting trips with Kate. I had grown quite fond of Kate in particular. She was feisty and independent…in short, she reminded me of Anna.

"Are you happy here?" Carlisle asked after a time.

"I'm glad we came," I replied carefully.

"But you aren't happy."

"Don't make me say I'm unhappy," I told him. "It's really not that I'm unhappy. Certain aspects of this trip are less comfortable than I would have expected them to be."

_Definitely a lawyer's son_, he thought.

His eyes immediately darted over to me, shocked at himself.

"I'm sorry. That was thoughtless."

"It's OK," I said slowly. "It didn't hurt."

I thought about that, how he was able to joke with me casually about my dead father.

"Does that mean that I am forgetting him?" I asked softly.

"Hardly," Carlisle responded immediately. "The memories you have of him you've worked very hard to keep. I doubt you are forgetting him."

"What, then?" I asked.

_Perhaps the grief is just becoming more manageable_, he responded silently. _I know it seems callous to think that you must move on from your old life. But you have an eternity ahead of you…it's only normal that you would begin to move on._

"I know it's necessary. Still, it saddens me to think that his death isn't important to me anymore."

"Just because the mention of his name doesn't cause you sadness does not mean that his death was unimportant to you. It just means that you are putting it in perspective."

"As in, they will be dead forever and I will live forever," I mumbled. Great. Now I was making their memory hurt.

"You mustn't berate yourself because of your immortality, Edward." _It's really nothing you can change_, he continued in his head.

"I know that. I'm not turning suicidal," I scoffed. "There are certain times when I feel the enormity of forever more acutely; knowing that my parents will be gone for an eternity but that I will be alive for an eternity is one of those times."

_I can understand that. _"I remember when my father died. Well, at least, when I found out that he had died."

He slowed down from the fast run so that we were merely walking very quickly and began to tell me the story in his mind, showing me pictures as he had them.

_Allowing anyone to know I survived was never an option. No one could know that the vampire who attacked me had turned me and I "survived" as a vampire myself. He would have tried to kill me himself; and as a newborn, I had no idea what I would do to him should I come close to him. I felt my thirst and recognized it for what it was. I didn't want to be the cause of his death. But in the end, I was._

I knew that Carlisle had never tasted human blood other than my own when he changed me. Also, knowing him, I knew he could never be responsible for another being's demise. I waited patiently for him to continue his story.

_He searched for me after the hunting party came back to the parish without me. I never would have guessed that my elderly father would have gone out searching for me, but he did. The night was cold and he caught an ague. It was a lingering illness; he died almost a month after my change. I didn't find out until nearly a year later_.

"How did you find out?" I asked quietly. If he went back only a year later, surely there would have been those who remembered him.

"I covered myself up, making myself look like a beggar. It was beneficial for hiding my skin as well as my familiar face. When I ran into someone who looked as though they might know, I asked them about the pastor who used to live there and his son. The person was more than happy to tell me the sad tale of the pastor and his poor son."

"I'm so sorry, Carlisle. You can't really feel responsible for his death."

"No, I don't. That's part of why I'm telling you this. For a long time, I did blame myself. I was angry with myself for not doing something different that night…perhaps, somehow fighting off the vampire."

I snorted at the thought of a human fighting one of us off, even weakened as he insisted the vampire who attacked him was. It was preposterous.

"Yes, of course it is ridiculous to think that a human might have been able to fight him off. But that is what grief does to us. It makes us wish for the impossible."

_Haven't you ever wished for the impossible?_ he continued in his mind.

"I wondered why you didn't change Mother or Father," I admitted. "And when I thought that Anna was sick that day, I vowed to make you change her to save her."

He smiled at me. _I thought you were thinking along those lines. Looking back, would it have been the right thing to do for any of them?_

"I can see how it would have drawn attention to you," I said smiling, thinking about three newborn vampires roaming the streets of Chicago instead of just me being hidden away in Carlisle's house. "I imagine we would have been slightly hard to control."

"I'm glad that I changed you; I have never regretted it. But it wasn't a choice I made lightly. And I never would have done it if your mother hadn't made that plea. She didn't plead with me to save her; it was you she wanted me to save."

"I know. I know this is what she would have wanted. Well—perhaps not exactly this…" I said, chuckling.

_Look, Edward_. He was pointing ahead of him.

Just beyond the trees, I could see what looked to be a frozen beach. I could see the ring of ice around the edges of the water, making the beach look longer than it actually was. On either side of the water's edge, the ice rose up into enormous glacial mountains. The peaks were jagged and uneven, filled with thousands of rivulets where the waters ran and froze over the centuries. It was amazing to see, knowing that the ice had been there for eons, moving slowly along the valley. It was vastly different than the ice floes where we had played baseball.

"This particular glacier has a cavern. Would you like to explore?"

"Of course!"

The talk from before was lost in my excitement about the new adventure. We ran along the ice, pausing and skidding on the slippery surface along the way. When we got to the entrance of the cave, I was amazed by the luminescence coming from inside. It was bright today, the sun still high in the sky, and the light reflected off of the surface of the ice in glimmering blue fractals. I approached the entrance carefully, watching the strange light from the ice react with my sparkling skin. It was a fascinating give and take of colors and light.

"Can we go in?"

"Of course, but we must be careful. The ice isn't as forgiving to us as the water is."

I looked at him, puzzled.

_We can't fly, Edward. If we were to fall someplace where we could not get purchase on the walls, it would be extremely difficult to get out._

"Ah, yes," I said chuckling. "That would be incredibly inconvenient."

"Indeed. I'd hate to destroy all this natural beauty if we had to tunnel out of her. Let's not test things, shall we?"

The inside of the icy cave was extraordinary. The light refracted off of the clear, glasslike formations inside of the cavern. As far as I could see, icy stalagmites and stalactites crowded my view of the cave. All of the ice was pure and clean, formed from the cleanest water the earth had ever known. Here, the ice was not littered with leaves or human debris. This was a palace full of diamonds, a feast for the eyes.

"This is breathtaking," I said. "It's hard to believe something as pure as this can survive for so long untouched. To think of how long it has been here!"

"Well, yes and no," Carlisle said, considering. "A glacier is far from frozen in time. It is constantly moving and changing as the water melts and refreezes."

"And here I was going to say how very like us this glacier is," I said.

"So alike and yet so very different…I visited this cavern on my last visit some fifty years ago. It was approximately a mile farther up the hill when I was last here."

"That's incredible!" I said, thinking about how different it must look having moved so far in what seemed to be so short a time.

_What's even more incredible is that there are some features of the glacier that have stayed the same, despite the movement_.

He was walking carefully into the glacier. He pointed to a brown blob within the ice.

"I saw this here last time I visited, although it was further up the wall."

"What is it?"

He shrugged. "It's possible that it is some ancient animal or human who died or was trapped in the flow of the ice long ago. At times, these glaciers can move up to twenty or thirty meters in one day."

"So, there are people from long ago…preserved in the ice?"

"Yes," he said, his mind full of possibilities. "I wonder what we would find in the body of one so old."

He stared for a long time at the shapeless brown thing trapped within the ice. I wanted to run around to the other side to see if I could discern what it was, but I could tell that it would be dangerous. More, I wanted to smash the ice in order to bring it out so we could examine it. The possibilities of what we would find were endless. But I could see the danger in doing something so rash.

_Really, this glacier is more like us than I would give it credit for._

"What are you referring to?"

_We may be made of something harder than stone, but we are malleable. I think of the way I've changed since you joined me. Which reminds me…_

He reached inside his jacket pocket and brought out a black, velvet bag. I could see a medallion in his mind, but it held no significance to me at the time. He fingered the soft pouch, thinking over the best way to introduce this to me. Finally, he thrust the pouch into my hand and began unbuttoning his collar. He pulled a long chain out of the folds of his shirt and dangled it in front of me.

"You may open it; it is my Christmas gift to you," he said softly.

His fingers were working gently over the ivory figures on his own medallion. I pulled out an exact replica of his medallion and held it in my hand. It was a heavy, weighted stone, mostly black with ivory figures laid carefully on the surface. Pictured was a hand with thumb folded inward above a prancing lion in a field of shamrocks. Topping the design was a chevron and beneath was the Cullen name.

"This is my family's crest. It has been in my family for literally hundreds of years." He chuckled. _I guess that at least is self-explanatory, but it was in the family long before my father's time even._

I nodded, hoping he would go on with his description. I wasn't disappointed.

"The lion is the most prominent figure on the crest. It stands for a dauntless courage in the face of adversity. The lion is prancing amid three shamrocks, representing perpetuity…a meaning which has taken on new significance with me. The chevron at the top was added after my great-grandfather completed masonry work on an abbey in England; it is a protection talisman bestowed upon the crests of accomplished artisans and craftsmen."

He paused, running his thumb over the crest a few times, remembering the stories that had been handed down about his family which he had gathered over the years. They were disjointed threads, but he clung to them with everything he had.

"And the hand?" I asked. "What does that mean?"

"It is an eternal pledge of faith and represents my family's desire for truth and justice above all else."

_It is ironic that my father's search for justice was founded in fear instead of truth, isn't it?_

I didn't know how to answer that question so I remained silent, taking in the gravity of his gift and his choice for where to give it to me.

"I realize I assume a great deal by offering you my family's crest," he began. "But I want to make permanent my promise to make you part of my family. This crest was given to every member of my family for a very, very long time. I finally feel as though I have someone I wish to pass it along to."

"I don't know what to say," I said feebly. Everything I could think of was inadequate as a response to his gift. "Thank you," I stuttered, though I knew it was woefully clichéd and insufficient.

_Edward, I'm not expecting you to wear it…I know it is a lot to ask of you_.

"No, I…want to wear it."

_Really?_ he asked, smiling.

"Yes. This week has given me some clarity. I understand now that we are a family, albeit an unconventional one."

He laughed and nodded.

"There is a lot about our life that is unconventional…but my wish for you to be my son is not unconventional. Were we human, I would have wanted to adopt you if I could."

"I know," I said, fingering the figure of the hand on the crest, the symbol of perpetuity. "I saw that in the way you defended me this week and the way you unfailingly came to my side when I needed you. It was very…human."

"You've brought back some of the human emotions I had forgotten," he admitted.

"I—this is difficult for me," I said.

_Nothing has to change because I've given you this crest_, he reminded me in his head.

I shook my head and walked over to the wall of ice, staring in at the form trapped within it. This was something that needed to be said…a step which I needed to take.

"I've always thought of you as a father figure, even when I was human. Your guidance meant so much to me—I remember even now how much I looked forward to your visits."

"You're very bright," he said smiling. "There's nothing stopping you from continuing your studies next year or the year after when we get to Wisconsin."

"What I'm trying to say is that even though I may not call you 'father,' I still consider you to be a second father to me. I can't replace the father who I lost, but you are the closest thing to family that I will ever have. I don't want you to doubt how much your friendship and guidance mean to me."

"Thank you, Edward," he said, his voice clearly strained. "That means a great deal to me."

I held up the crest, letting the light catch the ivory figures on black surface.

"_This_ means a great deal to _me_."

_**A/N: I know I've kind of been a great big failure in my plan to update weekly. Life and all its sundries have conspired against me to make my writing time shrink. In any case, I think this may be a chapter that you all have been waiting for. We know in canon, even up until Breaking Dawn, that Edward very rarely "calls" Carlisle father. Instead, he thinks of him as a father. This is the transition that we see in this chapter. Edward has made that all important jump. Hallelujah! ;) As far as the glacier imagry goes, I did a google search on Alaskan Glacier Caverns. Truly, the images are breathtaking. If you have a few moments, go and enjoy the beauty. It's well worth it. And the handball ice game is just a game my cousins and I used to play in the winter. Much more fun with vampires though! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the developing relationships in this chapter!**_

**_In other news...thank you all so very much for all of your support in the Faithful Shipper Awards. I want to send a great big congratulations to Giselle-lx and her wonderful story, "Ithaca is Gorges," who won for Best Canon. Giselle's story is beautifully written and definately deserves the nod. I appreciate all of your votes; I feel so thrilled to have made it to the finals. You all are wonderful._**

**_Haven't done this in few chapters...Please review because reviews are like witnessing the wonder of the glaciers...with Edward. ;) ~Jen_**


	30. Illuminating the Night

_**A/N: This chapter is for Peanut1981, who gave me the idea for it a long time ago. ((hugs))**_

_Two Months Later, February of 1919_

"You do know you can view the Aurora very well from Denali," Tanya said again.

She was sitting in the corner of the room, her arms crossed and her knees drawn up to her chest. Carlisle and I were standing in the middle of the room surrounded by the rest of the family. We had announced last week that we would be leaving today in order to get to Fairbanks by the first of March. We wanted to spend a few weeks viewing the Northern Lights and hunting on our own before heading back to Chicago. We had a lot of work ahead of us before we made our move to Ashton; we wanted to enjoy our last few months of freedom before Carlisle began his rotations in the hospital again.

"We're aware of that," Carlisle said calmly. "Yes, Tanya."

"Why is it so important to be in Fairbanks, then?" she said, jutting her lip out as she spoke.

_Things have been so much better lately, Edward. Why is he doing this now?_ she thought.

Tanya was right; things had been much easier for us over the past several weeks. While she hadn't learned to control her thoughts, I had gotten better at ignoring them. If anything, her thoughts had become more difficult to listen to because she had gotten to know me better and her thoughts were more personal. Carlisle sighed, and turned away from Tanya, forgoing the explanation he had already given her three times and ignoring her pouting. It was a moot point; we were going and her arguments wouldn't stop us.

"You will come back again someday," Carmen said, gathering me into a hug.

I nodded into her shoulder, returning her embrace.

"Of course," I said.

I didn't say when. I had begun to understand that time was measured on a different scale for immortals, one which I was only barely beginning to fathom. We might be back to visit them in ten years, or even twenty; either way, it would be soon to them, but never soon enough for Tanya.

I took a deep breath and walked over to her. I had thought a lot about how I would say goodbye to her, knowing that this moment was going to be painful for her and that I would hear every second of her pain. Still, I owed her more than slinking away with a casual wave. She had tried her best and she had been as cordial as she could be.

"Tanya," I said softly. "I wanted to say goodbye. I hope that we can part as friends."

She snorted.

_We could have been so much more, Edward, if you had only given it a chance._

"It wouldn't have lasted, Tanya," I said, crouching down in front of her so that I could look in her eyes.

Her eyelids were heavy as she raised her eyes to meet mine. I could read the painful accusations in her mind as she thought about the way things could have been, _should_ have been, if I was just more receptive to her charms.

"You don't know that," she said finally. "It could have lasted."

I shook my head and reached out to touch her cheek gently. She rested her head against my hand, looking up at me and willing me to feel something for her. I felt only pity at the emptiness I would be leaving her with. I knew that I couldn't fill the void she was seeking to fill; still, I pitied the pain she would endure.

"You know that's not the truth," I whispered.

She lifted her head and nodded once, stiffly. I could almost see the pain she was pushing away into the part of her mind that was furthest from her conscious thoughts. She was slipping her hurt into her subconscious, not an easy trick for an immortal. When she was finished, her mind was harder, full of defenses.

"I'll be fine," she said, her voice harsher. "I just wonder…will you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I have my dalliances, my many distractions and my sisters. What do you have? _Carlisle_?"

She said his name with disdain. I could see what she was doing, emphasizing how little I had compared with what she had. I knew that everyone in the room could hear us and I didn't want there to be a fight between Tanya and Carlisle now, just as we were leaving. I simply shook my head and stood up.

_What can he possibly offer you, Edward? He's just a bachelor…he doesn't know what you need. You'll grow bored of that life and you'll be back. I'm sure of it_.

"I may not have the distractions you have, but my life is full of opportunities. Carlisle's made sure of that. Don't worry about me." I tried to remain cordial, but she was testing my patience.

_You may think so now, but you'll come crawling back to me, begging me to save you from the boredom._

A low growl rumbled in my chest as my lip curled up in a snarl. She continued to sit on the floor and look up at me with her haughty, catlike eyes, throwing insults and taunts my way. Rationally, I understood this was her last chance to make a play at me. But her pleas had turned into personal attacks on Carlisle and me. I was done pretending to be friendly with her; she had crossed the line.

"I promise, you will not see the day when I beg you for anything," I snarled.

"Forever is a long time, Edward," she cooed. "Don't promise something you can't be sure of."

I turned and walked away, angry with her for the first time since our first encounter. I could read the malice in her mind, the way she had gone so easily from wanting a piece of me to mocking everything about my life. Perhaps that made it easier for her to deal with my rejection, but I was angry with the way she scoffed at the small family Carlisle and I had formed. She made it seem as if it wasn't enough.

"Edward, wait," she called. I turned to look at her, my eyes hard and my mouth twisted in a frown. "I'm sorry."

Her face was drawn in a pout of false apology, but her mind continued to be full of mocking words.

"I am too." I frowned once.

I stalked away from her, blocking out her thoughts as I went. It was getting easier to direct my gift where I wanted it. For the time being, I focused on Kate and Irina. Forcing a smile onto my face, I gathered them into a hug.

"I'm going to miss you both…very much," I whispered to them. For once it didn't matter to me that Tanya would hear our whispered conversation.

"And we'll miss you, cousin," Kate said, giving me a final squeeze. _Don't leave it like this with Tanya! She'll suffer for months._

"She's made her choice, Kate," I said harshly.

Irina shook her head sadly. _This is a mistake, Edward,_ she thought.

"You heard what she said, but you didn't hear her thoughts," I said harshly. "I'm sorry, Irina, I know this hurts you but you must trust me. Things might be better…next time."

"What did she do?" Kate hissed.

Kate had become a great ally during our time here in Denali; I was going to miss her dry wit very much as well as her protective nature. She was very fiercely defensive of her family and it gave me a great sense of happiness to know that she considered me part of her family and worth defending.

"It's unimportant, Kate," I said, sighing. "Suffice to say that Tanya has made her wishes known and laid down an ultimatum for me. I am unable to fulfill her desires and we are at an impasse."

"She laid down an ultimatum?" Kate repeated. "Well that certainly sounds like Tanya. You're probably right, Edward; things will most likely be better next time." _Or, at least, back to the way they were_, she continued in her mind.

I smiled at her and nodded my agreement with both of her statements. I turned to look Irina in the eyes again. She smiled at me and nodded reluctantly. _Of course she's right_, she admitted. _And so are you; you often are, aren't you?_ I giggled and shrugged my shoulders.

"It's a hazard of my gift, I'm afraid," I said softly, eliciting a giggle from Irina.

Kate reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a package which she pressed into my hand.

_What you asked for_, she thought, smiling. _I really will miss you, cousin._

"I know," I said. "And I truly will miss _all_ of you as well."

My eyes flicked over to where Tanya sat but her head was down as if she couldn't hear our conversation. I knew she had heard and it was enough.

I turned to look for Carlisle.

_Are you ready, Edward_? he asked silently.

"I guess I am."

We said our final goodbyes and were walked to the door by the entire family, including Tanya. Their thoughts were a mix of sadness at our departure and speculation at what our future would bring. Each of them had their own thoughts about what my future in particular would hold. All of them, even Tanya, couldn't wonder at the change in Carlisle. It was imperceptible to me, not having known him before I joined his family. But in each of their minds, they remarked on what a changed immortal Carlisle had become since I had joined him. They wondered if that change might herald other changes in Carlisle, or if _this_ was the Carlisle they would know for the rest of eternity.

Fairbanks wasn't far from Denali, at least for a vampire, but we had decided to take a full day to get there. Sprinting, we could have made it in half a day, but there was hunting to be done and scenery to enjoy. The melancholy that gripped me when Eleazar and his family were finally outside of my range surprised me. Carlisle noticed my mood change immediately, but refrained from commenting on it. He was waiting to see if I would comment to him.

My sadness at leaving Denali surprised me, but it shouldn't have. Though I was often uncomfortable there because of Tanya's loud thoughts, it had become more of a home to me than Carlisle's house in Chicago ever was. Perhaps it was because the house was so full of the spirit of family with all of the Denali clan spending so much time in the house. Perhaps it was because I had finally realized this was my new family. But for whatever reason, I knew that leaving Denali was the real start of my new life as a vampire.

"That was harder than I thought," I said, breaking the silence we had been walking in.

"Leaving or saying goodbye?"

I chuckled, pleased that he had recognized the duality of the situation for me.

"Both…" I said, "but mostly leaving."

"Do you think Tanya was right?" Carlisle fingered the bristling needles of the pine trees as we passed by them, sprinkling snow on the ground.

"No," I said, after a moment's thought. "She was baiting me. I've known all along that these first few years would be difficult; Tanya wouldn't have changed that even if I had chosen her."

_You're probably right about that_, he agreed. _Still, your time was very full in Denali; it won't be so in Chicago…or in Wisconsin_.

"I know that," I said softly. "That's why it was difficult to leave. But as you said before, I have options. Wouldn't it help you if I went to medical school? I could give you all of the latest information…"

"I don't think you're ready for _that_ just yet," Carlisle said.

"No, but I could prepare myself. Perhaps we could look into correspondence school so I might finish my high school degree. I don't have much left and once I finished with that, I could study and prepare myself so that I might go right to medical school once my control is better."

My excitement was making me walk faster, and when I finished speaking I found that I was whipping through the trees and Carlisle was struggling to keep up with me. I slowed down as soon as I realized what I was doing and looked sheepishly at Carlisle.

"It's good to see you excited about this," he said with a smile. "I just hope it will be what you're looking for."

_You have a rough road ahead of you if you want to test your control in such a manner. I didn't attend medical school until twenty years after my change._

"I don't plan to work with blood," I admitted. "But I can gain the practical knowledge and keep you up to date at least."

"It will be a help to me, without a doubt."

We carried on in silence for some time. I thought about what our return to Chicago might mean to Edie, and of course, to Anna. I desperately wanted to see them now, but I was still frightened about what that might mean for them…and for me. They'd notice the changes immediately; there were too many of them and they were too severe for them not to notice. I could tell that the red in my eyes was lightening, becoming more orange, but I was an immortal. To a human, my eyes would still look blood red and horrifying.

I imagined hearing the thoughts of horror running through their minds. It would be enough to drive me mad, I thought, to hear my best friend and cousin think of me as a monster. Not to mention the terrible draw of their blood. _I_ was horrified at the thought of what I might do to them with only a slight whiff of their scent. I could break them easily, kill them in an instant. It would be, without a doubt, the worst thing I could ever do.

Anna would be difficult. I shook my head when I thought about how stubborn my friend could be. If I told her that we are moving out of the state, she will be livid and insist on seeing me. I knew I would need to find some excuse why she could not see me. Telling her that I was too ill to see her would no longer be an option…not after our long journey. There would need to be something more and it would need to be good. I didn't put it past Anna to come striding up to Carlisle's door to see me.

"Edward, look."

Carlisle's voice shook me out of my plotting and planning. The woods had grown dark as we traveled, but it didn't affect my eyesight so I barely took notice. As I looked around, I realized that the entire forest was bathed in an eerie array of colors. My immortal mind could process the colors instantly and I realized that the colors were changing and moving around me. I followed Carlisle's finger to the sky and that was when I saw it for the first time.

The Aurora Borealis.

Without embarrassment or ceremony, I sat down in the middle of the forest and gaped at the wonder in front of my eyes. It was, without question, the most exquisite display I had ever seen in my life. The lights danced in the sky, vivid shades of green and blue melting through the pitch black night. Stems of red or orange would streak through the center of the lights from time to time, illuminating the entire night and then the blues and greens would take over again. They moved and changed, lighting the night with their silent music.

"It's unbelievable," I whispered.

Carlisle sat silently beside me, watching the lights dance through the trees and across my face.

_I'm glad it didn't disappoint_, he thought.

"There aren't words to describe this," I said, moving my hand to encompass the light show in front of us as well as the silent woods and the undisturbed snow. "It's the perfect place to see something like this."

"I agree," Carlisle said softly. "May I ask you something, Edward?"

"Certainly."

_What was it that Kate gave you before we left?_ he asked silently.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, and dug the velvet bag out of my pocket. "I'm glad you mentioned this…I wanted to show you."

Just after Christmas, I had enlisted Kate's help to find a setting for the Cullen crest that Carlisle had given me. I had never been fond of necklaces, but Kate had the perfect solution.

"I know of a man in town who makes lovely leather jewelry. I'm sure he could set the crest in a bracelet for you. It would be tight to your arm so it wouldn't hinder your movements and it would be understated as well."

She had agreed to take the crest to the man and have it fashioned into a bracelet for me. I kept this from Carlisle because I knew he would insist on taking care of it himself. Kate assured me that her family had an arrangement with the man and there would be no cost for the bracelet. I, of course, knew what her arrangement with him was, but it wasn't necessary to broach that subject with her. After she took my measurements, she ran to the shop and placed her order. It took longer than I had anticipated, but I was pleased to be able to show the finished product to Carlisle here. It seemed fitting.

"Kate helped me," I said as I tugged the leather band out of the velvet pouch. "I hope you don't mind that I did this on my own. I wanted it to be a surprise."

I handed the bracelet to him. Kate had been right; this was perfect. The leather was soft and pliable under my fingers, the smell from the tanning sharp in my nose. Carlisle turned it over and over in his hand, his thumb brushing the onyx and ivory crest.

_I wasn't sure if you would want to wear it_, he admitted silently. _I rather thought you had put it away_.

I smiled and tapped my temple.

"Afraid I had forgotten?" I asked playfully.

"No…afraid you were only being polite in accepting it."

I considered for a moment just how difficult it must be for Carlisle to never truly know how happy I was to be his son. Again, the convenience of my gift really struck me. From the moment I awoke, I knew Carlisle's intentions and feelings for me as clearly as I knew my own. It was a great comfort to know with such surety that he looked at me as a son and wished to be a father figure to me. I realized I had been unintentionally vague with him after he gave me the crest. I just assumed that since I accepted it, he would know. I needed to rectify that situation and put his mind at ease.

"I've been unfair." I took the bracelet back and secured it quickly to my left wrist. The leather was soft against my skin and didn't feel as foreign as I thought it might. It felt right; as though it was supposed to be there. "I keep forgetting that this isn't a two way street; you can't read my mind."

"Is that another hazard of your gift?" he asked wryly.

"Apparently."

_What is it you assumed that I already knew?_ he asked silently.

"That I am honored to be your son." My voice was thick in my throat, though I didn't feel sad.

"You would consider yourself so?" he asked.

"I do," I answered without hesitation. "I think I always have in some sense. I'm only just beginning to have words to describe those first few days after the burning, but I think even then I considered you to be a father figure."

"You mean your creator," Carlisle corrected, but I shook my head.

"No, I never looked at you like that," I said softly. "A creator is one who forms someone before birth and then watches impassively from afar after their birth. That isn't to say that a creator doesn't care for their creation…just that often they don't remain a constant in their creation's life. Does that make any sense?"

_It does…I don't know that I agree with you._

"I'm just saying that whereas a creator is usually a far away presence, a father is an integral part of his son's life. I see you as a father, not a creator."

_I can be happy with that definition._

Carlisle smiled in the multicolored light of the aurora, and for the first time he looked at peace.

"Have you been worried about this for very long?" I asked.

"Well, clearly not consciously; however, I guess the thought that you would consider me little more than a creator has always nagged at me."

"I'm sorry I let you think that," I said. "It wasn't very fair."

_It's good to know regardless_, he thought.

We watched the colors dancing through the Alaska night for several hours, never growing tired of the way the light danced around the forest and bounced off the snow. At some point near morning, we made a silent agreement to go home. It had been too long and we were anxious to get on the road.

The scent of a predator caught us just after we left the boundaries of Fairbanks. It was a large male polar bear.

"Do you want to try taking him down together?" I asked, when I heard Carlisle's thoughts about splitting up.

Carlisle and I had never tried taking down a kill together. He had been worried that I would attack him, but now he was ready to test my control and my patience.

"Do you think you're ready for this?" he asked, concern darting through his mind.

I shrugged, unconsciously sniffing the air to follow the scent of the bear.

"Kate and I hunted in tandem a few times. We never took the same animal, but I never felt threatened by her. I'd like to try…the males are enormous. More than enough for the both of us."

_If you feel threatened or try to attack, I will do my best to run away from you_, he thought grimly.

I knew what he was concerned about. Once we were both fully entrenched in our hunting mindset, it would be difficult to pull ourselves away from the tunnel vision the hunt could create. Carlisle was concerned that if I lunged for him, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fighting back. It was a risk; there was no doubt. But this was another step we had to take. Also, it was a bridge I needed to cross if I wanted to feel comfortable hunting with Carlisle. It was a newborn rite of passage and I intended to complete this with flying colors.

Still I set my jaw rigidly as we began our silent approach on the bear. I needed to focus with every ounce of energy I possessed to make sure that I did not lose control. Without speaking or really thinking, Carlisle and I veered away from each other and took off at vampire speed to entrap the bear between us.

_Now!_ I heard his bloodthirsty voice in my head as we approached the stunned bear on the barren tundra. It had been making a meal of a baby seal and fully focused on the meat in front of it. The dead thing clutched between its paws dangled in the air stupidly as the bear looked around for the sudden, foreign smell. Before it could find the source of the offending smell, Carlisle had attacked the bear's torso, knocking it into my arms. I was already anticipating his movements. I caught the bear and went in for the killing bite immediately; there would be no playing with our food tonight.

It was dirty and there were lots of growling and even a few lunges, but we managed not to attack each other. We both considered this a major milestone. After we had glutted ourselves on the polar bear and a few seals, we set off on the road back to Chicago.

"You handled that really well," Carlisle said.

"You didn't think so when I lunged at you," I grumbled.

"I put you right in your place, didn't I?" he asked, laughing.

"Yeah…Dad," I said and winced. "Do you think that will ever get easier?"

"It does sound odd," he admitted. _You know, I don't need to hear you __**call**__ me 'father.' It's really enough to know you think of me as such._

"I don't ever want you to feel the way you did before…" I said.

"I'm not likely to forget, Edward," he said, smiling, tapping his temple lightly.

"True," I conceded. "So if I call you 'Carlisle' it won't be a slap in your face?"

"Of course not," he said. _You already have a father…as I told you before, I'm not seeking to replace him. Only to offer you some sense of normalcy._

"I appreciate your understanding."

The mood lightened considerably after that brief discussion. The question of what we would call each other had been looming ever since I put on the bracelet. Now that we had cleared up the formalities, things felt much more natural. I knew that this would never be an issue for us again. Carlisle was my second father…he was my creator, my mentor, my second father, my friend, and so much more. One small word, such a father, could never cover all of what Carlisle was to me. His name would need to suffice.

* * *

As we entered the outskirts of Chicago, we smelled a human. During our journey, my gift had given us fair warning before we ran into any humans. Tonight however, the wind was whipping through the forest, so we smelled the scent first. I could feel the burn immediately; it was like a white hot fire in my throat. Immediately, Carlisle's arms were wrapped around my torso like steel girders and he was hissing in my ear, warning me not to breathe.

"I'm OK," I said.

"What?" His thoughts were a garbled mess of thirst and his desire to keep me away from the scent. He was nearly unable to process that I was really in control.

"I'm OK!" I was just as shocked as he was. "I'm in control…I think."

I still _wanted_ that smell, but I didn't _need_ it. It smelled intoxicating, and the bouquet was trickling through my nasal passages and down my throat where it burned in my lungs. The scent seemed to swirl in my brain and threatened to undo my control. But I was able to pull it back. I chanced another breath and the air was laced with fire, but still I did not move. My body was frozen marble, my face a mask of determination. I would fight this.

_We'll walk on the outskirts of the smell,_ he thought. He removed his arms from around my torso, but kept his hands on my upper arms. _I'm not letting go_.

"Good." My teeth remained clenched as I continued to draw in small breaths, testing myself.

The man's thoughts were sketchy as we stayed on the fringe of where his scent had traveled. I was getting bits and pieces of his thoughts and they were giving me the strangest sense of familiarity, as though I ought to know this man.

_It's nights like this I miss him most_, the man thought. The thought trailed off and a lost him for a moment. I wondered what the man was doing in the woods and who he was missing. His thoughts continued to fade in and out, making me focus on the sound of his inner voice in order to hear him better. Suddenly, I heard a name. _Charlie loved these woods at night_. Clearly the man was missing someone who had passed away. I wondered whether it was a son or brother. _Damn wars…least this one is almost over._

"Are you in control?" Carlisle asked.

"I can hear bits and pieces…I just want to know…it's like I _know_ this person."

Suddenly the pieces seemed to click and I got a fuzzy picture in my head of a dusty luncheon counter and a sign on the wall of a sinking ship. Some words floated into my memory: _Just enjoy what you've got, Edward. Just enjoy the hell out of it._

"Mr. Freedman!" I exclaimed.

Suddenly, I was the frozen statue again. What were the chances that the first human I encountered on our return to Chicago would be someone I knew in my former life?

"What in the name of sense is old Mr. Freedman doing in the woods in the middle of the night?" I wondered aloud.

_Edward, what are you talking about?_ Carlisle asked, his body tensed, ready to restrain me if he needed to.

"The man that we're smelling…I know him. Well, I knew him. It's Mr. Freedman from the general store."

I was unconsciously angling my body toward the direction of his thoughts, wanting to catch a glimpse of him. With a sudden, forceful movement, Carlisle pinned me to a nearby tree.

"You can't do that," he said.

"I was just—"

Carlisle cut me off with a hiss. I saw his eyes searching mine for signs that I was about to break free of his grip. I relaxed my body as much as I dared to show him I didn't intend to fight him.

"You can't go over there Edward." His voice was little more than an angry hiss of emotion. "We're dangerously close to pushing your limits. Do you want this night to end disastrously?"

"No!" I didn't feel out of control. I tried to remind myself that Carlisle couldn't know my control or read it in my mind; he was treating me as a newborn ought to be treated. Still, it galled me that he didn't trust me more. "I'm not planning to attack him; I just want to see him."

"You may be in control right now, but I assure you if you get closer, you will not stay that way."

He was right, of course. I was being foolish, reckless with the old man's life. I allowed Carlisle to lead me away, to clearer air. I found myself sad that I couldn't hear Mr. Freedman any longer. I wanted to know what his business out in the woods was; I wanted to be sure he was safe. I said as much to Carlisle when we were safely clear of his scent and Carlisle laughed bitterly.

"You do realize you are likely the greatest threat to that man in these woods tonight, do you not?"

I hung my head, knowing he spoke only the truth.

"I felt in control," I argued.

"And that is wonderful news," Carlisle said immediately. "We will continue to test your control in the hopes that you will be able to mingle with the public by the end of your first year. It would be insanity to test you that way tonight."

"I know that." I had balled my hands into tight fists of anger and my voice was icy. "Can we just get to the house? We can't be more than five miles away now."

We ran the rest of the way to the house, neither of us talking. When we arrived, I threw the bag I had been carrying down and stormed up to my piano. Seeing the piano in the middle of the room covered in a thin layer of dust filled me with a measure of comfort that I hadn't known our entire time in Denali. This was home now. This room, this piano…this would always be home to me.

I sat down on the bench and began to play, allowing the notes of the music to wash my anger away. The music made it easier for me to see the sense in Carlisle's caution. As I played, I wracked my immortal brain to find a clear picture of Mr. Freedman; I was continually disappointed with my hazy, human memories. I sat playing through the night.

Sometime well after dawn, I heard Carlisle slip softly out of the house. _I don't know if you're listening to me, but I'm going for the mail._ His thoughts were bleak and I realized that I had hurt him with my moodiness. I played for several more minutes before I walked away from the instrument. I strolled into the library, running my fingers over the spines of the books. It was comforting and slightly disconcerting that I remembered the order of every book on the shelf. Immortality definitely had its advantages: a photographic memory, for one.

I heard Carlisle's thoughts as he returned to the house and I walked out to the entryway to meet him. As he opened the door, I was shocked at the sheer number of envelopes in his hand. We had been gone nearly three months, but Carlisle was a solitary bachelor…and no one knew I was here.

_Anna_, he thought when he saw my questioning gaze. _And Edie as well…but mostly Anna. She may have written once or twice a week._

I sat down in the chair and gazed at the stack of envelopes. I quickly counted twenty-five envelopes of varying sizes and thicknesses. Just knowing that she had been writing all this time filled me with a sense of relief. She was healthy and the flu hadn't taken her.

"What do you think is going on?" I asked, gesturing at the large stack Carlisle was holding.. "She knew we would be gone…what could she want?"

_I have no idea, son. Though, knowing Anna, it was important. She didn't strike me as a frivolous young lady._

"No, she was never that," I said fondly. I missed her very much and looked forward to reading her letters.

"Go."Carlisle handed me the large stack of letters carefully and shooed me out of the room. "Read your letters. You can fill me in on the latest news when you've finished."

I sifted through the stack of letters, finding the first one which was postmarked just a week after we left for Denali. My control over my strength had improved greatly since the last letter I had opened; I no longer had to remind myself not to tear the thin paper within the envelope. The movements came naturally now, though my amazement at my own fluidity still lingered.

_27 December 1918_

_My dearest friend,_

_A new year is upon us and I find myself immersed in the holiday fanfare, though I hardly feel like celebrating. Do you remember last New Year's Eve? You hid in the cloak room to avoid dancing with one of the local girls your mother wished you to court and I brought you punch and cookies. I do so wish you could be here this year._

_I've sent in my letter to Vassar; I will start in the Fall. I'd rather hoped you would be joining me in scholarly pursuits at one of the Old Ivies, but I'm sure you and Dr. Cullen have many plans for the future now._

_Where will you be attending school in the Fall, Edward? Will you really write back to me when you can? I don't mean to pester you; I simply miss you terribly._

_Yours,_

_Anna_

The New Year's Eve party Anna spoke of was completely lost in the haze of my human memories. Anna's face, however, was clear in my memories. I pictured her writing these letters, laughing at points, concentrating at others. In no time I was ripping through the other letters, devouring the news that Anna had shared and immersing myself in my discarded human life, if only for the brief moments when I was reading her words.

* * *

_**A/N: They're back home…but not for long. Wisconsin isn't far off at all, and with it many changes for our boys. Beforethey go, the have some business to attend to though, and you'll get to read more of Anna's letters. :)**_

_**So, throughout this story, whenever I was asked how long the story was going to be, I would answer very flippantly, "Oh, it'll go until Alice and Jasper join the family." I never had any idea when I started this story just how hugely LONG it was going to be. I sit here now, thirty chapters into the story, with at least another thirty before I get to Alice and Jasper's arrival. And that's a good thing, right? It's also a very long fan fiction.**_

_**I've been doing some soul searching about this story, and some outlining, and have made an executive decision about the arc of this story. I'm going to "complete" this story in about two to three chapters, with their arrival in Wisconsin. I will then start a new story at a later date that will detail the start of the family.**_

_**This decision won't make me skip anything. If anything, it will allow me to go into more detail with the rest of Edward's story. I know this isn't what we talked about, but I think this is the best thing to do for the story. I think if I knew what I was doing when I started this story, this would have been the ending I had planned from the beginning.**_

_**Also, if I'm being honest with you all, I just really need a break from the grind of writing two stories at once. Those of you who follow me on Twitter know that we've been having some serious medical problems with our kids and that, combined with the natural hectic pace of the summer, has just made trying to write this story and All That Jazz a real chore. I think ending the story in a couple of chapters, taking a break until my daughter starts Kindergarten in the fall, and giving myself a chance to write several chapters of the new story before posting will make this whole experience more enjoyable for both you guys and for me. **_

_**Again, I'm not ENDING this story; I feel the need to stress that. I WILL come back and write the rest of Edward's Pre-Twilight life; I'm just taking a break. I hope you understand this decision and you're not too upset at me. Really, all of you are the reason I continue to write. You've all been so supportive of me and of this story. I understand if you're upset and fully expect you to let me know if you are. I just hope you understand I'm not abandoning you all. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the last few chapters and that you will put me on Author Alert so that you won't miss the start of the new story.**_

_**Review, because reviews are as lovely as watching the Aurora Borealis dance through the forest…with Edward by your side. ~Jen**_


	31. Leaving Chicago

_3 January 1919_

_Dearest Edward,_

_A new year._

_I assume you have reached your destination and are receiving the treatments which you spoke of in your last letter. I hope that you are well._

_Have you heard from Edie recently? Life is treating her remarkably well. She and Tom are doing very well. He walks her to and from school nearly every day (I have been acting as chaperone for these meetings). Also, he and his family have been over to the Kellys' house for dinner twice already. It seems very serious, and you will be happy to know that they are good for each other. At least in my opinion, anyway. Edie seems…happier._

_Life is much the same for me. Except…_

_I have no one who understands me. Does that sound…desperate? I don't mean to be. I just miss you awfully, Edward. I can't seem to rid myself of that feeling._

_I look forward to seeing you soon, when you are well enough to do so._

_Yours,_

_Anna_

I tucked the letter back into the roll-top desk with a sigh. This was all very difficult for Anna, but there was really no way for me to see her yet. I could imagine the pressure she was under; none of the other girls we knew had aspirations such as hers. I wished that I could be there for her now, but it was too soon for a variety of reasons. My bloodlust was, of course, one of the most pressing reasons, but I was taking strides to correct that problem. I felt sure I would have that hurdle conquered before we moved to Wisconsin. But much more than that, I worried what my appearance would do to Anna.

I doubted that she would be able to reconcile the boy I used to be with the vampire I had become. She was too intelligent to just accept the changes as part of the flu; she'd seen too many other victims and knew this was not the norm. She would think…and then she would guess. She would never come close, but she would never be satisfied. And I truly didn't believe that I could lie to her.

But then there was Edie. Sweet, innocent and happy Edie. Her letters alluded to the happy future she was anticipating with Tom. She had everything ahead of her, and without really considering the consequences she had forced me to speed up my timeline exponentially. I needed to be fully in control within the next two years so that I could be there for her when she needed me. It was important to her…which made it necessary for me.

I wasn't yet ready to talk to Carlisle about this new development. I knew what his reaction would be because of the things I'd read in his mind. When I pressured him to take me closer into town, I insisted that I was doing it in order to ease my transition when we arrived in Wisconsin. I didn't like hiding things from Carlisle, but I wasn't ready to defend my need to see my family just yet.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Carlisle asked again as we ran through the forest.

Instead of heading toward the wild game preserve as we usually did, we were headed in the opposite direction. We were headed to the outskirts of town.

"Yes," I said. "I'm sure."

_Foolish_, he thought and then frowned. "I'm sorry. It isn't that I don't trust you…"

"It's just that you don't trust me," I continued, smiling. "I know. And I understand. But it's essential for me to do this if I want to have any sort of life when we move to Wisconsin!"

_Edward_, Carlisle mused, _it isn't as though I __**need**__ to work. I can take a few years off until you're ready to be on your own._

"Carlisle, I can read your thoughts, remember?" I shook my head as we ran. "You're missing the hospital and your patients more and more every day."

We inched our way closer and closer to the city, stopping as the human scent became stronger. I imagined the scent was layered through the woods like an ocean of temptation, and we were wading through the shallows. The first wave of blood-red fragrance hit my nose, making me reel backward with desire. I wanted to seek it out, find it and consume it until the fire in my throat was quenched.

My eyesight sharpened as my senses kicked into hunting mode; all around me the trees with their budding branches stood out against the night. Carlisle was there in front of me, speaking to me in my head but he kept his hands at his sides. I focused on his voice and my memories of my family. I found that when I put their faces to the lovely perfume of human blood, I was more in control. It helped me to think of them as innocent _humans_ instead of just the vessels which contained that mouthwatering scent.

It took us almost all night to get within sight of the city. By the dawn I was mentally drained, my control reaching its farthest limits. Carlisle convinced me to come back to the house near dawn; I argued with him most of the way there, trying to convince him that I was fine and ready for more.

"We can go back tonight if you want to continue testing yourself," he said once we were inside the house, his mind full of doubts. _But you will need to hunt first…I will not take you any closer to the city until you've hunted_.

I growled softly in frustration.

"I'm fine," I said.

"You're not!" he burst out, grabbing me by the back of my shirt and leading me over to the mirror in the hall. "Look at yourself and tell me you are fine!"

My eyes were deep, obsidian circles sunken in purple patches of skin. I was thirsty; dangerously so. The sliver of reddish-orange that showed around the black looked like a fire burning behind my eyes. I closed my eyes to the vision in front of me. Carlisle was right, of course. I would need to hunt.

"It's not a failure," he said, smoothing out my shirt and patting my shoulder. "You pushed yourself a great deal tonight."

"I will have to push further."

"Why are you so determined to do this in just a few days?"

"Because I can!" I said angrily. "I can do this; I just need to discipline myself."

"What you are attempting took me _years,_ Edward. Why are you in such a rush?"

"There are…things I'd like to do before I leave Chicago…things I can't do unless my control is better."

_Would you mind expanding on that?_ He asked silently, his hands held behind his back.

I reached into my pocket for the letter I had been carrying around, my tangible reminder of why I needed to pursue this control.

"It's Edie," I said.

I held out the letter to him. He took it but did not open it.

_Tell me what it says and what you must do_.

"She's in love with Tom," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "She feels certain that he will ask for her hand by the end of the year and is just as set that they will be married before her nineteenth birthday. That's no more than a year and half away! And…she wishes _me_ to give her away."

Carlisle groaned. _You don't need this type of pressure right now_, he thought and then grimaced.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But you are my only concern right now. Edie's wedding will have to take care of itself. I won't have you putting yourself and other humans in danger just to fulfill her wishes."

"Carlisle," I said. "It's not like that. I'm her only family."

"And what will they think when you walk into the church, Edward?"

"You walk amongst humans all the time!" I argued.

_And none of them ever saw __**me**__ as a __**human**_.

His logic was irrefutable. Still, I _would_ be at Edie's wedding. I'd made a promise to her and to myself when I first read her letter. I'd be there, no matter the personal cost. It was clear that Carlisle could guess what I was thinking.

_It is fine to be self-sacrificing, but please remember there is more at stake here than your own comfort. People's lives could be at stake if you lose control for only a second!_

"We have a year and a half, Carlisle," I said, walking away from him. "I will be ready for this."

"You want to see her before we go though, am I right?" he asked.

"I just…I want to know that she's happy."

_You don't need to see her to know that's true_, he thought.

He spoke the truth. And I knew he was right when he insisted I would be a danger to her. I walked away hearing his voice echo remonstrations in my head. Still, the next night he met me at the door. We hunted quickly and he immediately turned toward the city. For the rest of the week and through the next several weeks, he went with me closer and closer to the city until I could walk among the deserted streets. My face remained pained and it was clear to anyone looking at me that _something_ troubled me. But I never had the urge to run away from Carlisle. As we strolled through the empty city streets, Carlisle began thinking of my home. I immediately turned to him, looking him in the eye.

"Can we?" I asked.

His face fell and he looked both wary and resigned at the same time.

"If it's something that you wish to do…" he said, his voice trailing off as he thought back on my newborn days and the struggles I had endured. I could tell he was worried about what might happen at the house, what memories being back in that house might dredge up in my mind, but he was wavering.

"Carlisle, please?" I asked. "I think I'm ready for this. And I would like to see my home…one last time."

He was reluctant. I could sense that in his thoughts, but he nodded his head.

_We'll go tomorrow night,_ he said.

He continued worrying over this decision for the rest of the evening and through the next day. I chose to ignore most of his thoughts, opting instead to focus on the amount of control I would need to maintain in order to walk through the streets of my old neighborhood and stay in my family's house for any length of time. It would not be an easy feat by any means, but I had every hope that it would be worth it.

All the while that we were running toward the house, and even as we were walking down the street to the house, I could not remember any of the details. However, as soon as Carlisle opened the door to the house and the smell hit me full in the nose, I was back. I remembered every part of the house as if I had just been there this morning. I remembered the hallway that led away from the door and to the steps that would take me to my room. I remembered that Father's study would be just past the dining room.

Father.

_I'll just leave you…I have some business to attend to in the study_.

I could still smell them. Mother. Father. Even Aunt Clara and Edie. Even though I knew as a human I couldn't smell them individually, their scents were there now. They were faint and wouldn't have been discernable to a human, but to me they were lying underneath the heavy scents of dust and disinfectant and were there for me to ferret out.

I went immediately to the kitchen where, in my other life, I would have been surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells of Mother cooking. As I walked into the kitchen, the sink and oven were in full view; this was Mother's domain. I imagined that I could see her shade working over the stove and washing dishes, calling up to me in my room.

This was a house of ghosts and I was just a walking specter. This was no longer a house for living, breathing humans. It was…a museum. I sighed as I walked through the kitchen, running my over-sensitive fingertips along the wooden table and the smooth cutting board along the way. Everything had been put away exactly the way Mother would have wanted it to.

"Who took care of the house?" I asked, knowing that no matter where Carlisle was, he would hear me.

_Mrs. Kelly_, he answered immediately. _She and Edie came back and…straightened things after your mother passed_.

"That was nice of her," I commented.

_If this is too much for you_…

"I'm fine Carlisle," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm going out back."

I remembered the garden from Carlisle's memories of the garden party. Though it was night, I could see the entirety of the yard. What met my eyes was a sad imitation of the garden I had seen in Carlisle's perfect memory. No one had been out to fend off the weeds and plant Mother's favorite sunflowers yet. The garden was lacking love.

I immediately rolled up my sleeves and dug my hands into the soil, tearing up the weeds and turning over the soil all in one motion. With the high fences around the yard, I did not need to worry about the neighbors spying me using my vampire speed to get the job done. In under ten minutes, I had the garden weeded and ready to be planted.

I knew exactly where to find the seeds. Father always stored the sunflower seeds in the cool shed during the year so that they wouldn't germinate. I only hoped that there were seeds left. I found what I was looking for along with a detail I had forgotten. The hazy, far away human memory flooded into my mind as I picked up the old tin can. It had a faded paper label affixed with adhesive of some sort. I recognized Father's steady writing: **SUNFLOWERS**. Around it, I saw the faded drawings that I had added one summer day, "to make it beautiful for Mama." The label had stayed with the seeds for seasons upon seasons, and here it stood now, breaking my silent heart into pieces.

I stood holding the tin in my hand, my shoulders silently shaking as I tried desperately to remember the ritual my father and I would perform each year. For all of my perfect immortal recollections, I couldn't remember actually planting the seeds with Father. Even though I knew it was something we did every year, I couldn't _see _it the way I could _see_ the memory of the sunflowers. Those memories were lost.

I scooped the last of the seeds out of the tin and sowed them in the rich, ready soil. After covering the scattered rows of seeds, I gently placed the old tin back on the wooden shelf. I looked at it, sitting in the same spot it had occupied for at least the last twelve years. It would sit there, undisturbed, until the shed fell down around it. The flowers would grow, if only for one more season, in my mother's honor. It made me happy, knowing that she would still be here, if only because of her flowers.

As soon as I entered the house, I went to find Carlisle in the study. As I walked down the hallway, I heard the familiar creaking of the wooden boards under my feet, amplified by my perfect hearing. Was the house always this noisy? When I entered, the room was empty. I could hear Carlisle moving around the living room, but I was drawn to the desk and what I knew would be sitting on it. The pictures were still there, where I had left them the night after Father died. I saw a younger version of Father and Mother on their wedding day. With my immortal eyes, I could see the imperfections time had wrought on the photo. But I focused on their happy faces. I let my eyes drift over to the baby picture, with my father's hand caught for eternity just on the edge of the picture. Or, at least, until the photo ink faded. Amazingly, this detail struck me hardest for I knew that even when that ink had faded, I would remain frozen in time, looking exactly the way I did today.

I could feel my hands, balled into fists now, shaking at my sides as I began to lose the control I had worked so hard to maintain all day. I could feel the sadness, the anger, the frustration building inside of me as my eyes raked over my father's abandoned desk. I'd never come in here and disturb his reading again. We'd never play chess again. It was all hitting me more acutely now that I saw all of my parents' things laid out as if they would be home any minute to use them.

I found Carlisle sitting on the sofa in the living room, going through a box of pictures quickly. He looked rushed and I could tell from his thoughts that he wanted to do this before I arrived. I cleared my throat to let him know I was here and as I did so, I looked above where he was sitting.

I didn't remember the day we stood for that portrait, but judging from the likeness of me that was before my eyes, it was done fairly recently. We all looked…normal. Father's hand rested casually on my shoulder as I knelt beside Mother. Mother's one hand covered mine and her other hand loosely held Father's hand. Everything about us was so casually natural. We belonged together. We were a family.

There was nothing contrived here. It took no work. We loved each other without thinking about it, without question.

_Edward_, Carlisle called, distracting me. _You're growling. What's wrong?_

That was the first time I noticed the angry noises ripping through my chest. I felt my muscles tensed like coils and my jaw set. The entire day pounded into me, one slap in the face after the other of how present my parents were in the house and how absent they were now.

"Why?" I growled. "Why did this have to happen? We were happy the way we were!"

_Do you mean the flu…or me?_

"Everything!" I exploded. "My parents should be alive right now. It wasn't their time! And this?" I gestured between him and me. "This isn't natural. It's not like…THAT!"

I jabbed my finger at the portrait of my family hanging above Carlisle. In my sudden rage, the room became sharper, more defined, the way things did when I was hunting. Carlisle stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, and still I crouched and hissed at him. I angrily moved the chair between us out of the way, knocking over a table in the process. I brought my hand away quickly, ripping the fabric of the chair in my haste.

Carlisle's eyes darted from me to the painting and then back again. He was weighing my reaction to the painting. He determined rather quickly that I was near my breaking point and that the painting was causing the breakdown.

_You will never forgive yourself if you destroy that,_ he thought and moved like lightening.

Instead of coming toward me, he turned around and removed the painting from the wall in a fluid, immortal movement. He held it, facing away from me, behind his back. I stood up out of my crouch, my head clearing. I realized when the picture wasn't taunting me with memories, I was able to focus more. I was less angry.

_I'll be right back,_ Carlisle thought, grabbing the box of pictures as well. _Stay here, son_.

I righted the table and put the chair back where it belonged. I then sat down heavily in it. What had just happened? Had I really been ready to attack Carlisle…all because of a portrait? I thought I was past most of my newborn outbursts, having gained at least partial control over my bloodlust. Perhaps what unnerved me most about this was that Carlisle seemed unruffled by my temper. In fact, it almost seemed as though he was expecting it. He returned in under a minute without the picture box or the portrait and looking very sheepish.

"I should have known," he said, sitting back on the couch.

"You…expected that reaction?"

"Of course," he said. "Edward, you never had a chance to grieve. Your aunt took ill shortly after your father died and then you and your mother became ill and your mother passed away. Before you even realized she was dead, you were being transformed into a vampire. Of course I expected this response. In fact, I worried it would be worse."

"So glad I could disappoint you…" I said sourly.

_Don't be so harsh on yourself,_ he scolded silently. "You are doing so well with everything. You had to know your grief would be more difficult to master with your newly heightened emotions."

"I hadn't thought about it, really," I admitted. "I mean, I grieved for Mother when I found out she was dead…and I _did_ grieve for Father when it happened…"

_But everything happened so quickly, son_, Carlisle continued for me. _You never had the opportunity to process everything._

"Is this why you hesitated to bring me here?" I asked.

"In part," he said. "In truth, I never thought you'd be able to stay in the house this long, surrounded by humans. It truly helps you to hear their thoughts?"

I shrugged, avoiding the question as the sleep-softened voices came to the forefront of my mind. Yes, it helped to hear their voices. After all, the animals were silent when I stalked them. I knew that should I stalk the owner of any of these voices, I would be tortured with the fear and horror that would grip their minds before I killed them. It didn't make their blood any less appealing to me. It didn't make me want it any less. It just gave me the reminder I needed to stay away from them. Their voices…and Carlisle's, of course.

Their voices also reminded me that they were innocent bystanders with lives ahead of them. Lives…such as the one I had left behind in this house. Could I ever take someone away from their family the way Father had been taken away from me by the flu? I didn't think I could live with the guilt, especially knowing that I would be able to hear my victim think of their family before their death.

And of course, there was always Carlisle. The thirst was nearly unbearable for me, but I could hear the way Carlisle was able to deny it, ignore it almost completely. Should it ever come to his attention, it was as if his _conscience_ simply deflected it. With every fiber of his being, he strove to protect human life. In so doing, he denied his most basic instinct.

_What are you thinking?_ Carlisle thought. _You seem to be pondering something…_

"You made me wonder what is giving me the control," I said.

I could hear the voices of my one-time neighbors as they dreamt. None of them sparked any recognition in my mind; they were nameless voices talking about unknown desires. Some were dreaming of mundane trips to the park or decadent food. Others were dreaming of more…amorous pursuits. All of it was so…human. It was the first time I made a distinction between myself as a vampire and other humans. I didn't feel connected to these thoughts; they were foreign to me, though I longed for the oblivion of sleep. There, I might be able to forget all of this.

Carlisle gathered the papers that he needed from one of the side tables, guessing that I didn't wish to continue this conversation and made for the door.

"Shall we go?" he asked, frowning slightly. _I'm sorry this didn't work out as well as you would have liked._

"I have memories now; concrete immortal memories that will never fade," I said, looking around the sitting room again. "That is definitely something positive I'll take from this trip."

He smiled sadly.

"This house will always be here for you, Edward," he said. "I've made the necessary arrangements and it will be here for you if you should ever want it."

"Thank you."

_Of course, son_, he thought and turned toward the door. He allowed me several minutes alone in the house before he mentally called out to me that it was time to go.

The next several weeks were a swirl of paperwork and errands. I was unable to join Carlisle in his journeys into town, but I had plenty of paperwork to occupy my time while he was away. I would be starting correspondence school in the fall and I had much to do in order to prepare for that. Admissions forms need to be filled out and some documentation needed to be falsified in order to ensure no questions were asked.

Carlisle and I decided to pose as non-blood relations. I was to be his deceased wife's nephew who was orphaned in the flu and sent to live with Carlisle. In this scenario, I retained my own name and there would be nothing to explain away when people wondered why Carlisle was so young and I looked nothing like him. It was convenient.

The paperwork in itself was tedious, but it gave me time to reflect on the path of my immortal life and how much things were about to change. I realized the bulk of my life was going to remain stagnant. The house we were moving to was slightly smaller than our house in Chicago, but it was further away from humanity. This would reduce the likelihood that someone might want to visit or notice our strange, nocturnal hunting activities. Carlisle hadn't worried about it as a bachelor, but with two bachelors, he felt certain that we would draw more attention than he had as a single man.

I couldn't believe that it had been nearly six months since my change. So much of this life had become natural. Even the things I thought I would never get used to, the eyes, the diamond skin, the hunting…this was all simply part of who I was now. I still felt some revulsion when I smelled a human and wanted to drain them, but I was beginning to be proud of my control.

I looked down at the crest on my wrist, now as much a part of me as my clothing. I ran my finger over it again. In the weeks following our visit to my house, I began to accept the differences between the family I lost and the father I gained in Carlisle. This was different; it wasn't the natural order of how families were born—but it was a family. And once away from the siren-call of the memories living in that house, I was able to fully accept that.

I bent back over the paper to finish the letter I had started.

_25 April 1919_

_Dear Anna,_

_I miss you, too._

_I wish I had known you were writing to me all those months. I feel terrible knowing that you were writing for so long, missing my friendship. I hate that I wasn't there for you._

_There are so many things…_

_Well, life is different now, isn't it? The flu has changed so many things for so many people. It would be selfish of me to complain about what I have; Carlisle is so very generous and I am really quite lucky. Still…I do miss the companionship and familiarity of before._

_We leave for Wisconsin, our new home, in two weeks. Anna, if I could, I would see you before we leave. However, you must understand that it will be best for you not to do so. The best I can offer you is a promise. I __**will**__ see you at Edie's wedding. Nothing will stop me from seeing my cousin happily married._

_I hope this promise is enough to save our friendship, what is left of it._

_Your friend,_

_Edward_

I sealed the letter and gave it to Carlisle that evening for the morning post. I knew that she would be angry; there really wasn't any way to avoid that. But I thought that she would at least be mollified in knowing that I had plans to attend my cousin's wedding…should the event occur as planned.

Edie.

I wouldn't be able to see her. Distance and rational thought prevailed, as did Carlisle's insistence that I would never forgive myself if I killed her. But I was resolved to be at the wedding, despite Carlisle's reluctance. He would not give his consent, of course, until I had proven my control more completely. I was satisfied with this, knowing that I would prove myself to him within plenty of time.

The distance, I felt, would prove to be a blessing to me. The memories were all around me here. My childhood home was only miles away from here, taunting me with its proximity at all times. It was difficult to be so close to Anna and Edie as well; they, more even than the deserted house, called to me and dared me to test my control in dangerous ways.

This would be better for me…safer for them.

_Son,_ Carlisle called from the downstairs. _The movers will be here soon for the piano._

"I'm going," I said softly, walking over to the baby grand and running my fingertips over the ivory keys one last time. They responded immediately to my touch, the notes echoing through the room. I closed the top of the piano softly and caressed the wood before walking away.

The piano was the only large thing we were shipping to our new home. We had no need for our other furniture, knowing that we could easily afford new once we arrived in Wisconsin. Carlisle considered briefly leaving the piano here, but I quickly approached him and asked him to change his mind. I knew that it would not be easily moved to the new house; still, it was important to me. Carlisle never hesitated. He agreed to have the piano moved without any further question. In fact, he seemed pleased that I was so attached to the piano, his first gift to me.

I ran through the woods, reminded of my first run as an immortal. This was likely to be one of the last times I ran this route, headed to the forest preserve. I chuckled, knowing that I would remember it without any difficulty no matter how long it took us to return to this area. I wondered at the capacity of this immortal mind for the first time. Had I even scratched the surface in the amount of memories I could store in this mind?

And what new memories would I add during the adventures still to come?

**_A/N: And thus ends the last "full" chapter of this story. I will be posting an epilogue to this story sometime in the next few weeks which is why I haven't marked it complete just yet. I really hope you have all enjoyed this journey. I know I have loved getting to know Edward better in writing this story. I've also enjoyed getting to know all of you! You have all really welcomed me into this fandom that is now like a second home to me. And I truly feel blessed to have you all as readers! I hope you will join me on the rest of this journey when it continues. Truly, you all are amazing. Thank you for reading my stories and embracing me in every way. Much love! ~Jen_**


	32. Epilogue

_October 19, 1919_

I capped my pen and looked over the flawless writing on the pages in front of me. Not a single smudge or error anywhere. I smiled. Being a vampire certainly came with its advantages.

It had been an entire year since I awoke as a newborn in Chicago. Despite being frozen in time and unable to physically change, so much had changed around me in that short period of time. For one, we were no longer living in Chicago. Ashland, Wisconsin was home now and I would be graduating with honors, much earlier than expected, from a correspondence class offered by the local high school. They were astounded with how quickly I returned my assignments, but with so little to do and so much time to waste, I breezed through each task. Carlisle cautioned me not to go too quickly, or at least not to _appear_ to go too quickly. He encouraged me to stay several assignments ahead and only send in one or two assignments at a time.

I did so, but I easily finished everything I was given and then ended up with nothing to do. It was frustrating. Carlisle had begun giving me more complicated tasks from the medical textbooks that lined our bookshelves in order to keep me occupied. I found that these pursuits kept me more satisfied for longer periods of time.

With an end in sight to my high school career, Carlisle had begun bringing home applications for correspondence colleges so that I might begin my advanced schooling as soon as I was ready. We'd had a heated argument the first evening he'd brought these pamphlets home.

"_Correspondence school again?" I asked when he handed me the pamphlets. "I thought I would be ready for university next fall."_

"_I thought you might do your first year in this fashion and then go on to attend classes in your sophomore year."_

"_I'm ready now," I said stubbornly. "At least while taking classes, I'd have something to fill up the empty days."_

_He looked down, regretting having to leave me alone for so long every day._

"_It's not that, Carlisle," I said, my voice harsh. "I'm not angry with you for going to work. If anything, I'm jealous of the connections you get to make. I want other interactions besides with you!"_

We'd gone hunting that night, each of us taking our fill of the deer in the area and completely ignoring the hanging question in the air. He carefully avoided thinking about the hurt my words had caused him and I tactfully avoided bringing it up again. Because of that, we never resolved it. And so the correspondence pamphlets sat untouched alongside my school work until this morning when Carlisle brought the mail in.

_You're still serious about this_, he said reproachfully in his mind.

I had seen the first of the admissions envelopes in his mind as he approached the house so I wasn't surprised with his greeting.

"I thought I made it fairly clear to you that I felt ready for this, Carlisle," I said, trying to remain calm and rational without losing my temper. It was getting easier.

"You've barely been around humans, Edward," he said, rubbing his brow. "You think you're just going to show up at Northland on your first day and be _fine_. You need to prepare for this."

"I tried that!" I burst out. "The last time I tried to _prepare_ myself, you pulled me back to the house even though I was in control and then wouldn't speak of trying again."

He thought back on our time in Chicago when we had run across Mr. Freedman in the forest. He thought of my eyes and the fear he had felt. He never truly accepted the fact that I was in control and I don't blame him. I looked horrific that night. But I never felt in danger of running toward the scent and attacking. There had always been excuses after that and we had never gone back close to the city.

_You're right_, he thought after a time. _I've been unfair_.

I nodded stiffly and turned away from him.

"I need you to trust that I'm ready for this. Of course I understand that I'm still a newborn, but I feel in control of myself and I'm ready to test that control."

"Technically…you're not a newborn anymore," he said and I could hear the smile in his tone. "It's been a year, Edward. _Technically,_ you are no longer a newborn."

"There are time limits to these definitions?" I asked wryly, turning around.

He chuckled.

_Of course you've noticed your eyes_, he thought.

"They are only slightly darker than yours now."

"And they might always be. My eyes were blue as a human," he said. "Perhaps your eyes will always be a shade darker than mine. It's not because of your human blood any longer."

"So I'll always be faster than you then," I said, making him chuckle harder.

"Yes, it appears so."

"So…you're willing to give it a go then?" I asked quietly.

_Yes_, he thought. _I need to work tonight again so you'll need to go hunting by yourself in order to prepare._

His eyes watched mine carefully, looking for signs that I wasn't comfortable with his suggestion. I smiled in response.

"I think that will be fine," I said. "It's likely too cold now at night for hunters to be out. And I would like to go in search of the mountain lions we saw last week."

He did not smile, only nodded and turned around.

_You'll be careful all the same,_ he thought.

"Of course," I replied.

_You…know what to do if you have an accident?_

"Carlisle, I wouldn't…"

"But you could," he said, turning around to face me again. "You need to be prepared for that to happen."

I could see in his mind what he was worried about. Locals out for a night hunt encountering me as I took down an elk or mountain lion. I'd likely have no control over my bloodlust at that point nor would I have much choice. They would have seen me for what I was.

"If you were to slip and kill a human, it would be even more important for you to hide your kill than it is when we hunt animals. And we would likely need to leave."

"That isn't going to happen, Carlisle."

_All the same, you need to consider, Edward_, he insisted. "I do…everyday."

"Still?" I asked.

"Of course," he said. "We are what we are, son. If one of them were to come upon me as I hunted, I doubt that I could stop myself. We are, after all, designed for the hunt. Once in that mode, it is nearly impossible to shift gears."

I simply nodded, unsure what I could say to dispel his fears and truly unsure that I should. He made very valid points. And if he was prepared, naturally, I should be doubly so.

* * *

As I entered the woods, I noticed the night noises die down. All around, the animals recognized the scent of a predator and became hushed and fearful. I could smell the fear rolling off of the smaller animals, but this was not the scent I was hunting. Tonight, I was in search of bigger game.

We had seen one of the large cats the last time we were out in these woods and this was the predator I was in search of. I stayed my thirst until I could pick up on the rich smell of the meat-eater's blood. It didn't take long.

I found her lapping water by the edge of the river. Her pink tongue dipped and disappeared beneath the water as she paused for a drink. When I leapt out of the tree and onto the ground behind her, her body froze and her eyes scanned the bank for the source of the strange smell. Her strange golden eyes, so much like my own, rested on me and she turned to face me, lifting her head in a question. She likely didn't understand what I was and why she could not smell my fear.

I approached her slowly, the smell of her blood intoxicating me as I got closer to her. She crouched defensively, growling and baring her teeth. The growl forming in my chest was just as instinctive and I crouched offensively, knowing I held the upper hand.

She lunged first, but I caught her significant weight in my arms. Her claws screeched against the skin of my neck, making her growl again in frustration. I threw her off of me and leapt toward her where she lay. She had barely flipped herself off of her back before I was on top of her. Now I smelled the fear … it was so foreign coming from such a perfectly designed predator. She swiped at my face and lunged for my neck with her dagger-like teeth. I growled at her as I snapped her neck back, paralyzing her, and then sunk my teeth in for the kill.

She was beautiful, even in death. I found that since I had developed some measure of control in my hunting, I was able to appreciate some of the larger prey that we went after. It was always different hunting the predators and I found that I had more respect for them than I did the gentler animals, perhaps because I sensed a kinship with them.

When I'd finished and had buried her beneath a stand of rocks by the edge of the river, I stood up to take stock. I'd managed to walk away from the scuffle without so much as a rip or tear. None of her blood had escaped to dirty my clothes. I looked…normal. It pleased me that I could walk away from the hunt this way, satisfied and undamaged. I had certainly progressed a long way from that first coyote kill.

I ran through the forest, enjoying the way the moonlight played through the trees and dappled the ground in front of me. I slowed, intent on savoring my first night out without supervision. Smirking, I thought of my human life and how many differences there were between that life and my existence now. Mother hadn't been overly protective, but there hadn't been much reason for me to journey out at night without either of my parents. I hadn't thought to fight against the restrictions, knowing that most of my friends had the same rules as I did. Now, I felt almost entitled to be able to be out on my own.

It was nearing dawn and I was caught up in hazy memories of my family, trying to grasp as many as I still could, when I first caught a whiff of human scent in the air. Almost immediately following, I caught thoughts drifting in and out of my range. The scent seemed fresh, immediately putting me on alert. I stopped breathing and was aware of the intense handicap that placed upon me. Without scent, I wasn't instantly attracted to the blood, but I also lost my most powerful ability to tell where the human was located. Weighing the options, I decided that not breathing was going to be far more beneficial to the human who was wandering through these woods. It was uncomfortable, walking through the woods and holding my breath for so long; it felt unnatural and though my lungs weren't in need, I felt the strain of holding my breath.

From the scent I had inhaled, I gathered that there was a lone human out in the woods, most likely a hunter. I immediately began concentrating my gift toward the direction I had smelled the blood, hoping I would catch the person's thoughts and be better prepared if they were getting closer to me. I was surprised to hear the thoughts of a young woman, and wondered what could bring her so far out into the woods so early in the morning.

_Daddy'll tan my hide if he finds out I've snuck away_, she thought.

I furrowed my brow as the girl thought of a burly man, muscled from years of farm work, approaching her with a raised arm and a leather belt. The girl was frightened, but more than that, she was angry. She'd decided that she had spent her last night at the farm filling in for her dead mother and she was ready to leave. Only … now she was lost in the woods. _With a vampire, no less_, my subconscious added.

I couldn't help but dwell on thoughts of her father; the redness in his cheeks and his bloodshot eyes told me that he was likely drunk when he beat her. I was there with her as she remembered him chasing her around their small farmhouse. I saw with her the image of her father looming over her and repeatedly bringing the strap across her body. And I felt anger that was all my own.

How could a father treat his daughter like that? How could _any_ human being treat another that way? Wasn't _I_ the monster … and yet this man's actions were more monstrous than any I had committed since my change. The anger toward this man was different than my hunting instinct. I wanted to _protect_ this girl and I knew I could. However, it would entail something that Carlisle had been trying to keep me from since I was reborn into this life: murder. I shook my head to clear it of the memories and focused on the problem at hand: the lost girl.

I tested the air only to find that she was getting closer. Judging by her scent and the clarity of her thoughts, she could only be about two miles away now. I had to make a decision. I could run back into the forest and hope she found her way out or I could strike out in her direction, knowing I would come in contact with her.

I began breathing again, taking in the fiery scent and feeling the burn in my throat and lungs. It was uncomfortable, but it didn't drive me insane with bloodlust. My body was sated from the mountain lion and though it wanted a taste, it didn't _need_ it. I was in control.

I took a hesitant step toward the girl's scent and thoughts, continuing to listen carefully to what she was thinking about, trying to discern her location.

_**If**__ he ever finds me … if anyone ever finds me. This was a stupid, stupid idea, Sarah. Should've just bucked up and married that boy. Fat lot of good dying in the woods is going to do you._

She was becoming more and more frightened by the second and I began to move faster through the forest toward her. I checked the sky and noticed that the black of night was becoming purple with dawn. I didn't have long. If a dark forest frightened her, a man sparkling in the sunlight would do her senses no good at all.

I ran until I could tell I was mere feet away from her. She was in a clearing, sitting down after giving up on walking for the night. I could smell the salt of her tears and hear her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she had made a terrible mistake but had no way of fixing it. I thought about what I could say or do, besides frighten the poor girl, and came up with very little. I knew that Carlisle mentioned they were looking for staff at the hospital, but what skills could this girl possibly have? I decided my best option was to direct her toward town and hope that someone would take pity on her.

I stepped out from the stand of trees and acted surprised to see her. It was not an act for long … the immediate reaction that the girl had to me was nearly overwhelming.

_Good Lord, he must be an angel or a demon …_ the girl's thoughts got lost on the details of my face and body. Were I human, I would have been blushing furiously. She was a comely young girl, perhaps my age or slightly younger. She continued on. _Why does he stare at me so? What does he want?_

"Hello," I called softly, knowing my voice would carry to her ears.

_Like angel's music … he can't be real._

"You're far out in the woods in the dark," I said, sucking in another fiery breath and clutching my hands tightly at my side.

Uncomfortable. Not unmanageable.

"So're you," she mumbled.

"I live nearby. Are you lost?"

_Are you real?_ she thought, but simply nodded to my question.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't – I'm not sure. Just – away."

Her voice shook with tears and a leftover human instinct wanted to comfort her, but I stood my ground.

"Away from where?" I asked quietly, smiling at her to calm her nerves.

I was careful not to show my teeth, only lifting my lips slightly, but it made her heart race and her blood pump faster. Looking at myself through her eyes, I saw my eyes darken with the increased scent in the air. Still, I felt safe.

"From my f-father. His farm is in Bayfield."

"Are you headed for Ashland?"

She didn't note the change in my voice, but I did. I heard the slight hesitation that came from flexing my control too far. Her increased heart rate was inciting my bloodlust. I wanted … _No!_

She nodded again and I shook my head quickly, clearing it from the thoughts of her blood. She furrowed her brow and wondered why I was telling her no.

"Sorry," I murmured, smiling again. "A bug."

She smiled back, happily accepting my excuse.

"You were walking in the wrong direction," I said. "When the sun comes up, walk towards it and it will lead you towards the town."

Her thoughts became confused and she looked worried.

"Will you – come with me?" she squeaked, looking up at me.

My dead heart fell. I couldn't imagine how a creature such as myself might inspire attraction to a warm-blooded, sweet girl such as the one before me, and yet … the evidence was before me. She was looking for protection, but it was more than that. She wanted my company.

"I'm sorry," I said. "My father will be looking for me."

Her face crumpled and I felt a moment of panic that she might try to get closer. When she looked down at her hands, I sprinted away without a sound. I was nearly a mile away by the time she looked up, surprised to see me gone. I climbed a tree and listened as she thought through our encounter.

_Real or not, he was the most beautiful creature I've ever seen_, she thought. I huffed and leaned my forehead against a tree. _Follow the sun … I can do that. I was silly to walk at night. I wonder if it's a mistake to walk into town … what if daddy's there?_

Insanely, I had the urge to follow her, as if I could offer her some protection … as if she needed protection from anything more than me. She was getting up and getting ready to move on when I heard the last of her thoughts: _I wonder if I'll see him again …_

She thought of me, standing mostly shrouded in the darkness of the trees.

_No,_ I thought. _I hope you never do._

_

* * *

_

Carlisle found me at the piano sometime around noon, playing a stormy classical tune on the keys. His head was full of worry but his outward appearance remained calm, unruffled.

"We don't need to move," I said quietly.

_Well, that's a relief,_ he thought. _Anything you'd like to share with me?_

"I came across a human."

_While you were hunting?_

"Of course not," I barked. "We'd have to leave if that had happened. After."

_Tell me._

I stopped playing and turned to him.

"She was running away from home and had gotten herself lost. I smelled her and of course heard her long before I saw her. It was a close thing … but I remained in control."

I frowned, thinking back on the young girl. I had stayed in the tree until she roused herself to begin walking again. She was headed in the right direction and with any luck she was in the center of town now. I only hoped that someone took pity on her and that her father was not waiting for her.

I couldn't get the thought of him out of my mind. The memory of him chasing her, hurting her, played through my mind over and over and I felt powerless to do anything about it. On the walk home, I realized I didn't need to _remain_ powerless. It was within my power to stop the man from _ever_ hurting her again. I simply couldn't get past the thought that doing so would be murder and therefore something Carlisle could never condone.

"There's more," Carlisle said after several moments of silence.

I sighed.

"She was being … mistreated by her father. It made me very angry."

"It's a sad fact," Carlisle said, his voice detached. "I see the results of it all too often."

"It made me think …"

I stopped myself and tried not to think about it.

_Tell me, son._

"It made me think about what it would be like to _hear_ those types of thoughts. It made me angry enough to hear her memories. I can't imagine having to listen to those types of thoughts firsthand."

"You've found much to be thankful for with your gift," Carlisle said quietly. "This is, perhaps, one of the downfalls?"

I turned back to the piano and began plucking out a sad tune on the keys. I couldn't help thinking that there was a greater reason for my gift, even from the first time I realized what it was I could do. It couldn't simply be a neat trick or an added defense … I surely didn't need any more of those.

"What if my gift isn't just a strange accident? What if there is a purpose for it?"

"Such as …"

"Such as … what if my gift is meant to protect people?"

_Protect …_ Carlisle began thinking about the ramifications of that word, what exactly _protection_ might mean.

"How exactly do you mean to protect people? I fail to see how you can either warn or protect people without … exposing yourself in some way."

I stopped playing and looked up at him for a moment.

"I'm a monster and I'm already damned … what difference would it make to God if I just did away with those who hurt others?"

"Did away with them? You mean kill them?"

Carlisle's face went from confused to angry in an instant.

_How can you even consider that? You aren't damned yet, but you would be to consider yourself godlike enough to pass such judgment on others!_

"But don't you see? I can _hear_ what they're thinking. I'll know who the bad people are and …"

_Edward, you might hear their thoughts in the moment, but you can't look into their souls and see everything about them. You can't know if they might someday make amends for their deeds. You just … can't know everything._

"But if I save one person? Isn't that redemption enough?"

_Not if in doing so you take a life. That makes you just as bad as those you wish to "do away" with._

I sighed, seeing his logic of course. Still, the thought nagged at me and I ran my fingers through my hair in distraction trying to justify my bloodlust and my gift. Surely they could be connected in some way.

"What is it about this girl that so affected you?" Carlisle asked calmly.

"I felt for her. I could see that her life had been full of hardship and sorrow. She knew that she was likely to end up either abused worse or dead by leaving her father's farm … and still she ran away. That took courage. I wished to help in some way, but what could I do?"

"Can you describe her?"

"Of course."

"Do so, and I'll make sure she finds a job and a place to live."

"How?"

_I have my ways, son, _he thought, _and someday so will you when you gain connections._ _There are many ways you can use your gift to help others without killing, if only you choose to._

After describing the girl to him and giving him her name, Carlisle went off to town looking for her. He arrived back at the house in under two hours with a sad smile on his face.

_It is done,_ he thought as he walked into the study.

I saw the girl from the clearing and I saw the surprise on her face when she saw Carlisle who looked so much like the young man she remembered from the forest. Carlisle had arranged for the girl to take up residence in a halfway house for orphans under an assumed name and got her a menial job at the hospital. It wasn't much, but it would keep her housed and clothed for the time being. The trick was keeping her father away from her, but Carlisle assured me that was out of our hands.

I couldn't help but think that he was wrong. I trusted Carlisle implicitly and I believed that he was sure of his purpose in the world. He was a surgeon and had likely saved hundreds, if not thousands of lives, because of his strengths. But what about me? I could probably never be a surgeon like Carlisle, but I could protect those in need. So what if it took the lives of those who wished to put others in danger? Why did they deserve mercy?

As I pondered these things, I saw that Carlisle was coming to find me. In his hand was my acceptance to Northland.

"I think you've proven yourself ready for this next step," he said as he walked up behind me.

I leaned my head against the pane of glass and closed my eyes. For the time being, that would have to be enough. I was still confused about my purpose in this new life, but I understood enough about where I had come from to know that I belonged with Carlisle for the foreseeable future. I could see that a future which involved hunting humans in any way would not be conducive to staying with Carlisle. And so I chose his gentler lifestyle and was confident I could live up to his expectations … for now.

_**A/N: I know this took forever. And I could take up your time with excuses, but I won't. I'll leave it at the characters wouldn't talk to me for quite some time and I wasn't comfortable publishing something that was only so-so. I hope that this chapter helped to tie up the loose ends in this story as well as set the stage for the next chapter of Edward's life. I will be honest with all of you, that next chapter will likely be a while in coming. I want to finish up with everything I have on my plate now as well as get my original novel well underway before I start anything new. I hope you'll have patience with me; I know you've all showed a great deal of patience already with this story. Thank you all for giving me a chance and reading this story. It was a pleasure to write and I'm sad to see it come to an end. Thanks again for all of your support and love. ~Jen**_


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